


I hardly know you but I don't wanna let you go (Something about the way you look tonight)

by MrsStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Famous Harry, Famous Louis, Flirting, Fluff, Football Coach Louis, Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Ordinary Harry, Some Swearing, and angst at some point, bit of Gryles, bit of ziam, but not smut for the sake of smut, harry is in one direction with niall and liam, louis is brutally honest, obvs not endgame gryles, radio one, radio presenter louis, some smut, with sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsStylinson/pseuds/MrsStylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a radio presenter stuck in the closet out of fear, Harry is the caller who piques his interest. Harry has had a crush on Louis Tomlinson for as long as he knew he existed but Louis isn't looking to get involved. Louis might just be blind to the best thing that's about to happen to him and Harry might be a little too aware.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my third attempt at writing a fic and my first attempt at AU. It's also going to be a lot longer then my first two attempts and hopefully much better. Don't really know if it's good enough for people to care when I update but if anyone does, I'm not sure I can put a definite timeline on it given that I just write when the mood strikes. I'm on a roll lately though so hopefully will be writing on the regular. Won't say anything else apart from that I hope you like it and the title is taken from chasing rubies by Hudson Taylor...and the bracketed part is a song by Elton John that the boys sang on X Factor :) x

Louis refuses to concede that he has been sleeping on the job. He will not. Not even when Nick squirts him in the mouth with water and he half chokes and sputters on air because yes okay, maybe his mouth had been hanging open a little as he drifted off. Whatever. It’s not his fault that Zayn had decided 3 am was the perfect time to roll a joint and start a painting session in his room, that happens to be next to Louis’, accompanied by loud music to “get his creative juices flowing.” Louis had kept his eyes open long enough to make it to the station at 4 am, make his customary Yorkshire tea and trudge down the long corridor to the studio where Nick had been waiting to run through the show before it began at 6. He thought that was quite impressive, considering he felt like someone had replaced his eyes with acid. Oh well. At least it's finally his turn to take the lead. He knows nothing can liven him up more than getting to say exactly what he thinks, no filter (well not much of a filter, he is on radio one – arguably the most popular British radio station) to people who still seem to expect him to soothe their ego or tell them what they want to hear. Fat chance of that. Louis is a no bullshit, no bluster kind of person and that's exactly how he got the job. He waltzed into the place with a kind of cocky, devilish smile and a joke on the edge of his lips that had convinced the majority of the room that he was the right person to fill the spot that had recently been vacated. Two years later and only 22 years old and he has to admit he's rather well liked and well known by their many listeners. So he can't really complain too much about lack of sleep or Nick’s antics when really, he loves the job and all the whiny listeners that call to talk to him.

“I guess it’s about time for Louis’ daily dose of brutal honesty,” Nick announces, miming a sleeping pose followed by a sly wink.

  
That will not do. Louis is perfectly awake, thank you very much.

  
“Ah Grimmy, we really should come up with a proper title for this segment. If I have to listen to you come up with a new way to introduce it one more time, I might just off myself right here,” he responds, openly smirking at the older man who is smiling hugely despite his efforts to look peeved off.

  
“Anyway,” Louis continues, still smiling happily, “I believe we have our first caller on the line. Jane, is it? What can I do for you Jane?”

  
Louis can tell immediately as the girl begins to speak, that she’s quite young, naïve and hasn’t really thought this through.

  
“Um….ah hi Louis. I guess I’ve been having some problems with my teacher lately….” She trails off, sounding uncertain.

  
“Problems?”

  
“I have a massive thing for my maths teacher buthedoesn’tevenremembermyname,” she says hurriedly, her words blurring together in a way that is altogether too endearing.  
Louis knows he has to be careful with this one. Usually it’s no bull and no niceties but he’s not a total jackass and this girl can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen. I mean sure, she had the courage to call up a national radio station that her teacher could be listening to but she’s naïve enough to fall for her teacher in the first place and that says a lot about her level of maturity.

  
“Oh love, that’s a bit of a pickle,” he says softly and Nick raises his eyebrows.

  
He gives him a look that hopefully says, “I’m not the prick you think I am.”

  
“Look, I am going to be honest with you because if you’ve listened to the show which I assume you have, I always aim to be truthful. So what I’m gonna say to you love, is that you need to get over this little crush of yours. It may take time and you might still think he’s a bit of a fittie, but you need to focus on boys closer to your own age. I promise that this teacher isn’t as special as you think he is, especially if he doesn’t remember your name. The truth is that even if he does remember your name, he will never reciprocate those feelings because that would be inappropriate and he could get into a lot of trouble. It doesn’t mean that you’re not a beautiful, lovely girl though. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

  
Nick flashes him a thumbs up and he smiles back, feeling good about having handled a delicate situation with diplomacy.

  
“Yeah, I guess…” Jane sighs, “Can I ask you a question Louis?”

  
“Course.”

  
“Have you ever been in love? I don’t think I have yet and I was just wondering like, when that might happen. It would be nice if it happened sooner rather than later you know,” She says despondently.

Louis’ throat feels awfully dry and his heart beats slowly in his chest as he considers how to answer the question. He’d like to tell her that of course he’s been in love or at least that he just hasn’t met the right person. He supposes it’s true enough that he hasn’t met anybody he could see himself falling in love with. Yet the truth is that the process of looking for somebody has been particularly hindered by the fact that he hasn’t been looking and has yet to find the courage to announce his sexuality, let alone it flaunt for the whole nation to judge him. Louis can feel Nick’s eyes boring into the side of his face as he answers, focusing on a point to the left of him where a screen displays the current temperature in London and the forecast for the rest of the day.

  
“I can’t say I have,” his voice may sound a little more strained than usual but he’s doing his best, “but that doesn’t have any bearing on your life love. I can’t say when it’ll happen for either of us really but I know it will be really special when it does and you know what Jane, I want to hear all about it when you do fall in love. Hope I helped sweetheart, thank you for calling.”

The line is disconnected by the tech guys and Nick mouths “sweetheart” at him, his eyes lit up with amusement. Being the extremely mature lad that he is, Louis pokes his tongue out and then quickly checks the screen in the right corner of the room which displays the name of the next caller.

  
“Okay so next we have Harry on the line. Good morning Harold,” Louis greets the caller.

  
“That’s not my name,” the boy responds and Louis’ stomach does a weird kind of somersault at the sound of it.

  
His voice is rather smooth and slow like the jazz music that Louis generally despises. However in this instance, he has to admit he’s not at all opposed to the sound. His lips quirk up of their own accord at the comment. This one has cheek.

  
“Ah but Harry is generally short for Harold, is it not?” He says in his “I’m very superior and amusing” tone of voice.

  
Apparently Harry is not as impressed as most of his callers.

  
“Generally,” he acknowledges, “however I’m the exception to the rule.”

  
“Indeed. Now young Harold,” he grins as a frustrated noise echoes in his ear, “do tell, what exactly is your issue of late? Apart from your own stunning idiocy about your name.”

  
He meets Nick’s eyes with a twinkle forming in his own and finds Nick sharing the same look. They both know he’s just getting started with this one. This is, after all, his favourite pastime.

  
“If you wanted to discuss idiocy, well why don’t we start with that little incident you pulled two weeks ago when you told that one woman to ease off the cakes if she was worried about her weight changing? And then she told you she was 3 months pregnant,” Harry quips, a rasp in his voice that Louis certainly does not think is attractive.

  
Nick snorts with laughter into the microphone, his eyes wide with mirth. Louis glares at him but finds himself openly grinning at the boy’s retort anyway.

  
“I like this one,” Nick guffaws unattractively, “he’s putting you in your place Lou. Harry, do tell us, how old are you?”

  
Louis raises an eyebrow, confused as to where Nick is going with this.

 “I’m 20,” He says, a questioning note in his voice.

  
“And do you follow Tommo on twitter?”

  
Louis is even more confused than before.

  
“Ah…yeah… I mean, doesn’t everybody?”

  
Louis bites down on the megawatt smile threatening to break through. Why has that sentence got him all worked up? He’s flattered. Of course he’s flattered. It doesn’t mean anything more. Nick waggles his eyebrows at him as if he knows exactly what Louis is thinking. Louis flushes a little and pulls a hand through the hair that curls just slightly around the base of his neck.

  
“So am I correct in assuming you’re part of the young twenty something group of male fans who think Lou here is some kind of sex symbol?”

  
Louis chokes on the tea he’d been sipping. Sex symbol. Male fans. What?!

  
“Excuse me. What on earth are you on about Grimmy?” Louis asks, a little breathlessly.

  
“They call themselves “louisexual,” Harry speaks just as Nick opens his mouth, “they quite appreciate your behind. I, on the other hand, have much better taste.”

  
Louis will not be proud of the fact that a bunch of guys are devoted to appreciating his arse, absolutely not. He’s not THAT gay. He does however feel a slight surge of annoyance at the fact that this Harry person seems to find him unworthy of the admiration.

  
“Excuse me Harold,” he says, in a snarky tone “but the only person who beats me out on the list of best behinds is Kimmy K and even then, it’s pretty close.”

  
He can’t help the anticipatory smile that forms creases around his blue eyes as he plans his next move.

  
“But-“

  
“Yeah okay, so I didn’t ‘break’ the internet as such but I don’t think you’d be able to handle the sight of me in that pose,” he interrupts, cursing inwardly as he realises that this is probably going to lead to a whole new round of gay rumours.

  
Ah fuck it, Louis thinks, he’s having fun and it’s not like they have proof of anything. Louis doesn’t even know if this Harry person is gay but he quite likes the thought of him being turned on by the image of him posing in raunchy positions. To his delight, Harry lets out a bark of surprised laughter which trails off into a sound that’s akin to a giggle. Louis does not find it cute, not at all.

  
“You’re right,” Harry says, his voice still light with laughter, “that would be too much.”

  
Louis finds himself wondering what this guy is really like in person. It suddenly seems highly unfair that his listeners know so much about him and yet he knows so little about each of them. He wants more of Harry’s voice. He wants to hear that laughter erupting out of him almost unwillingly at the sound of Louis’ remarks again.

  
“So Harold, now that we’ve wasted enough time, thanks for that Nick,” he winks at his friend across the black table separating them, “are you going to enlighten me as to what you’ve called about?”

  
“Right,” Harry clears his throat awkwardly, “I’m gay.”

  
Louis tries not to gasp into the microphone. He pushes away from the table for a moment and breathes out through his nose. In his two years of doing this segment, he’s never had somebody call up and talk about their sexuality. It hits a little too close to home and the next thing he knows, there’s a large hand pressed against his shoulder and Nick is whispering in his ear.

  
“You’ve got this,” he says.

  
So why does Louis feel so out of his depth? It should be easy. He is part of the same exclusive or perhaps not so exclusive club as Harry but if this is about coming out, if this is about being honest with the world, Louis feels unqualified giving Harry advice. That’s not even taking into account the fact that Louis likes Harry, wants to impress him in fact and the problem is that there’s a large chance that he will say something stupid and Harry will be left wondering why he even called in the first place. Louis decides he simply can’t mess it up. Even if he’s not ready to be honest with the world, he can give them a taste of what’s to come when he's ready. He pushes his chair back towards the table as Nick walks back to his seat. Louis closes his eyes and begins to speak.

  
“Tell me Harry, tell me your story,” he says, more softly than he’s ever spoken to any caller before.

  
He doesn’t question whether he has time to talk to Harry like this or whether Harry wants to share the details or not. He just knows that this is how he’s going to help. This is how he’s going to get to know a listener for the first time. As Harry’s slow, syrupy voice fills the silence, Louis’ eyes remain closed and he focuses only on Harry and the intimate moment they are now sharing.

  
“I wasn’t always…this way,” he says, his voice a tad tense, “but it wasn’t like a really sudden thing. I had just been noticing this one guy more and more and just listening to- just looking at him. I mean, I just felt like this missing piece in my life slotted into place. Because I had never felt enamoured with anybody. I thought it was just that...you know, like that admiration you have, like when somebody impresses you and makes you laugh and you just- you just feel like you want to know them, you know?”

Louis hums in agreement although he scarcely recognises the feeling.

  
“But ah, then I started having these images that I couldn’t get out of my head. He’s a beautiful person, you see and I just wondered what it would be like to –“

  
“Kiss him,” Louis finishes, without thinking too much about it.

“Ah yeah,” Harry agrees awkwardly, “and that’s when I knew. Thing is, this isn’t about coming out.”

“It’s not?”

  
Louis opens his eyes in shock and Nick is staring at him, something written in his eyes that looks a little too much like concern.

  
“No, that wasn’t the hard part. It was admittedly complicated. You know, people see what they want to see. You’re nice to people and suddenly you’re “charming” and a “womaniser,” Louis can hear the air quotations, “but it’s not that. For me, coming out was freeing.”

  
“Freeing?”

  
Louis can’t help the curiosity at this point. He’s practically forgotten this is a conversation being broadcasted across the nation and not just a normal phone call.

  
“Yeah, I mean I was finally able to be myself and I think the people that love me were happy to see me not trying too hard to be anything else. My best mate even said he was proud of me for having the courage to do it.”

  
Louis’ smile is much more subdued now but deeper somehow, the lines on his face ingrained with a kind of unexpected awe that Harry seems to inspire in him.

  
“You should be proud of yourself,” he finds himself saying, “Not everybody has your courage.”

  
I certainly don’t, he thinks.

  
“Thank you,” the boy sounds wonderfully sincere.

  
“But then there’s guys.”

  
“Guys?"

“Yes guys,” Harry hums, “they’re quite scary.”

  
Louis can’t help the loud laugh that escapes him. Harry makes that annoyed sound once more.

  
“I’m sorry Harold but I can’t not find that amusing. What’s so scary about ‘em? What about this boy who made you realise you were gay? He still in the picture?”

  
Louis finds his hands gripping the underside of the table without intent as he waits for the answer.

  
“Ah, I guess,” Harry says vaguely, “but it’s a bit complicated. He’s out of my league…by a country mile. The problem is, I’m terrified of doing stuff with guys for the first time. It doesn’t really even have to do with that boy or man or whatever, he’s not within reach. It’s just like…I feel like I should be trying things…but what if I’m sh…bad, or something and I-“

  
“Shhh Harold,” Louis soothes him, “you’re worrying way too much for a twenty year old lad who’s got the rest of his life before him. Firstly, I have no idea what you look like or much about your life but you seem lovely,” oh crap, where did that come from, Louis thinks, cringing inwardly, “ so I highly doubt anyone is out of your league…you know, unless they’re straight. Then maybe. Secondly, it’s no different from anything you may have done with a girl. Not at first anyway. You won’t be bad, you’ll just be inexperienced but you know there’s only one way to change that Harold. Just make sure it’s somebody that’s gonna be there to guide you through the experience and finally, you know what, just enjoy it young Harold.”

  
Louis twiddles his thumbs as he waits for the response, hoping he hasn’t completely fucked up.

  
“You’re right, I know you’re right…I just think too much. Broody musician and all that,” he jokes weakly.

  
God damn, Louis intones, he’s a fucking musician. He’s helpless to deny that it’s a turn on.

  
“It’s been a pleasure speaking with you,” Louis says, again without thinking.

  
Nick has pushed away from the table for the sole purpose of being able to make kissy noises off air. Louis glares at him violently.

“Same to you.”

Harry’s voice is awfully quiet and strangely intense and Louis wonders if his voice rasps naturally or if he’s just woken up and it’s rough from sleep. Both alternatives please him in different ways.

  
“Goodbye,” Louis murmurs close to the microphone, regretting the vulnerable note to his voice immediately.

  
However Harry responds in kind with the same sultry, gentle tone.

  
“Bye Louis.”

The line is disconnected and Louis wants to curse and complain and throw things because as much as he’d like to deny it, Louis has never been so tuned in to a caller before. He wants to know more about Harry, the broody musician and Harry, the inexperienced gay and Harry, the boy who might just have more courage in his finger than Louis has in his whole entire body. He feels his eyes close in defeat until a rather enticing thought strikes him. As advertisements play around him, he rounds on Nick.

  
“You owe me,” he says, pointing his finger rather close to his face.

  
“And why is that, lover boy?”

  
Louis takes this opportunity to upend the rest of Nick’s lukewarm tea onto his head. Maybe not the best way to get what he wants but hey, the man was asking for it. Nick just cackles and pushes him away.

  
“What is it you want?” He says, smiling widely, “your new lover’s number?”

  
Clearly he thinks he’s hilarious as Louis flushes a little and reaches up to straighten his slightly wonky quiff atop his head.

  
“Actually…yes. But don’t call him that. I just want to talk to him…about things. What he said, it struck a chord you know,” Louis says with the best puppy dog eyes he can manage.

  
He knows the poor lighting in the studio makes the blue of his eyes a little murkier, a little bit more tragic looking. Nick doesn’t need to know that Louis is less concerned with asking Harry for advice than he is with just asking Harry anything. If he knew, Nick would start in on the jokes again and Louis isn’t having it. Yes, he wants to know Harry. More so than he’s wanted to know anybody in a long while. Yes, Harry happens to be gay but Louis remembers studying the rules of logic in school and knows that just because two things appeared to bear a relation, it doesn't neccessarily mean they do. Louis just likes Harry. That's all. Nick’s expression has gone from teasing to sober and serious and Louis thanks his lucky stars for his acting skills.

  
“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea. He sounds like he’s got his head screwed on right. Sorry Lou,” Nick says quietly.

  
“No worries mate, just grab us the number off that tech guy who takes care of things. You know he hates me for always changing people’s passwords and locking them out of their computers.”

  
“You could stop that,” Nick suggests.

  
“I could,” Louis agrees.

  
They’re silent for a moment before they both burst into simultaneous laughter, amused by the very notion.

 

...

  
Harry feels like he’s running on borrowed energy as he hands customer after customer their bread and baked goods. Nora’s eyeing him with barely concealed concern as he rests his head on the counter and slips his boots off with a groan.

  
“What’s got you in a tizzy love?” She asks, her deep blue eyes as warm and as motherly as ever, the loose bun and reading glasses only enhancing the effect.

  
“Louis Tomlinson,” he moans into the counter.

  
“Mate, I know Norah’s helpless to your charms but I doubt she appreciates you reliving your sexual fantasies in her place of work,” comes a loud, obnoxious voice.

  
Harry lifts his head to glare at the blond headed boy who’s practically bouncing on his heels as he waits for Harry to deliver his daily dose of baked goods.

  
“You’re not funny, y’know?”

  
Niall’s smile only grows deeper as he reaches out and ruffles Harry’s curls. Harry tries to resist the fondness slipping onto his face but knows it’s a lost cause. You can’t not love Niall.

  
“Oh don’t be so moody. You did get to speak to him after all. Don’t tell me you’re _more_ sexually frustrated now you’ve heard him say your name.”

  
Norah raises her eyebrows at Harry, making him flush and then slips out the back. Harry busies his hands under the counter, assembling a bag of iced biscuits for Niall.

  
“Mate,” Niall admonishes.

  
“Yeah okay, so I’m a bit worked up. But like, it’s Louis-fucking-Tomlinson,” Harry says under his breath, his green eyes darkening as he runs a hand through his hair.

  
“He sounded pretty taken with you. Maybe you should call in again tomorrow,” Niall suggests with a shrug.

  
He’s wearing a white shirt with pandas printed on it and Harry is struggling to take him seriously. He looks about 16 years old with his dyed blonde hair all spiked up.

  
Harry shakes his head vehemently.

  
“The chances of getting through again…and even if I did, what would I say? Hi Louis, I’ve pretty much had a massive crush on you ever since I stumbled across your segment. So basically I’m just calling to talk about nothing because hey, we already sorted my problem yesterday.”

  
His voice has gone unnaturally high and Niall looks torn between amusement and pity. He settles for amusement. Of course.

  
“Exactly.” Niall beams at him.

That’s when the phone in Harry's pocket begins to vibrate and he cusses wondering why his mum is continuing to badger him when he told her he wouldn’t have a break till 12. Niall rolls his eyes as he watches Harry’s extremely difficult method of extraction. Why he doesn’t just wear looser jeans, Niall will never know. He supposes the black skinnies painted to his skin and the loose grey Henley do make quite the statement but honestly, Niall wouldn’t trade places with him.

“Nora is going to fire me if you keep calling,” Harry says, miming shooting himself with a gun to Niall, who's already devouring an iced biscuit.

  
Never mind that Harry loves his mum to pieces. Right now, she needs to be reminded that he’s not a baby anymore.

  
“Is she just? Funny that. Thought it was you who called me last, not the other way round,” comes the musical, lilting voice.

  
Harry flushes to his very roots and mouths a panicked “Louis” at Niall who merely cackles, shooting biscuit crumbs across the counter.

  
“Um, Louis Tomlinson?” He says because a) he can’t think of anything better and b) he probably shouldn’t let on how well he knows Louis’ voice.

  
“Louis,” Louis corrects.

  
“Right,” Harry breathes out through his nose, “why are you calling me? How did you get my number?”

  
Harry’s surprised by the moment of silence that follows but then he hears a door closing and footsteps and figures Louis’ opted for privacy. This is promising. Louis clears his throat before speaking and Harry finds it oddly endearing.

  
“I got it off Nick who got it off the tech guys who took your call. Technically they aren’t allowed to give it to me but we told them you were an at risk teen. Young gay dealing with people’s judgement and all that. That probably wasn’t all that appropriate either, considering it’s not true but…”

  
Harry turns away from Niall’s curious look, leaning back against the counter as a smile etches itself onto his face.

  
“Louis,” he says, rather confidently, “you’re rambling.”

  
“Right, I um,” there’s another pause, shorter this time, “I just wanted to ask if maybe you’d like to meet up some time. Just to discuss some things. I think…I think maybe we could help each other. I mean, do you live here in London?”

  
Harry’s heart is thundering in his chest because holy mother of god, is Louis-fucking-Tomlinson asking to see him? For real?

  
“For real?” Harry bursts out, smacking his forehead with his palm at the stupidity of the question.

  
Louis sounds purely amused now, the uncertain edge to his voice gone.

  
“Yes, for real Harold. Now how about it? I can explain better when I see you. What are you doing tonight?”

  
Harry has a gig tonight but the thought of having to wait even one more day to see Louis is not something he’s okay with. It’s not like he’s desperate….he’s just a tad awestruck that he’s going to meet his own personal celebrity fantasy. For real. Possibly tonight.

  
“Um I actually have a gig with my band, One Direction. You’re welcome to come if you want to. It’s not a long set and we could have a drink after. Bring a friend if you want,” Harry says, as casually as he can manage when he’s biting his lip and praying Louis will say yes.

  
“I’d love to,” Louis says, sounding genuinely enthused, “where and when Styles?”

  
“The bar’s called Albatross, it’s-“

  
“I know it. What time?”

  
“We start at 7. Come whenever though.”

  
“Right, I’ll see you later pop star,” Louis says.

  
Harry is dancing on air.

  
“Bye Louis.”

  
When he dares to turn around, Niall is staring at him open mouthed.

  
“Did Louis-fucking-Tomlinson just ask you out?” He says, incredulous.

  
“Well, no. He asked to meet up. But he’s coming to see me and we’re going to have a drink and oh my god, Niall…” Harry trails off, reaching up to grip his hair as he realises the reality of the situation.

  
“What?”

  
“I’m going to have to sing in front of him!”

  
“Ah-“

  
“Yeah, I know, I know. I’m the one who invited him. But I didn’t really think about the singing part. God we have to be good tonight. Text Liam now. Rehearsals at mine as soon as I finish work yeah?”

  
He sounds panicked and he knows it. Niall reaches over and claps him on the back.

  
“Course H. Don’t worry your pretty little mind. Louis will love it,” he says reassuringly.

  
“And this is why you’re my best friend.”


	2. Chapter 2

Louis is freaking out. Big time. It’s not like he’s worried about Harry not finding him attractive…not exactly, because well, why should he worry about that? It is NOT a date. It is a meeting of friends…in a bar…with drinks…and music…and oh, crap, why does that sound so….

“Date-like?” Zayn offers as Louis stands before his floor length mirror, examining his quiff and verbalising his panic.

Zayn is the very image of calm, cool and collected as he lounges on Louis' bed in white jeans, a white shirt and a rather expensive leather jacket which finishes halfway down his arms, displaying his tattoo covered forearms. Louis does not appreciate the fact that Zayn would look good dressed in a garbage bag with a shaved head. Stupid pointed cheekbones.

“Well yes…” Louis concedes, “I mean, I dunno how to handle this. I don’t want to look like I’m _trying_ to impress him…but I do want to impress him. He sounded shocked that I would want to meet him. I don’t want him to be disappointed with the real thing.”

  
“Lou, you’re being ridiculous. I was listening to the radio…that kid was mad into the conversation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did have a thing for-“

  
“He doesn’t have a thing for me,” Louis grumbles, not as put off by the thought as he’d like to be, “he doesn’t know me.”

  
“That doesn’t stop those louisexuals from fantasising. You know, after I heard about that, I decided to check it out. Those gays are proper dramatic. ‘Louis' bum is the epitome of a good life decision by god. This is why I go to church,’” Zayn whines, throwing a hand over his head as if about to faint.

  
Louis tosses the shirt he discarded earlier at his face.

  
“Quit it.”

  
Zayn just grins and crosses one jean clad leg over the other. He’s a menace, he really is.

“So when are we going to go? He might not be so impressed if you miss half his gig,” Zayn says, staring him down.

Louis makes a frustrated sound as he eyes himself in the mirror. He’s wearing tight, dark jeans paired with a black shirt with the name of a band he doesn’t recall and a denim jacket. He’s toned down his usual ‘pulling’ outfit for the express purpose of not looking like he’s trying to pull Harry but...he just feels underwhelming like this. Sure, his bum looks good in tight jeans and his hair has just the right amount of product in it that it’s staying in place but is still soft to the touch but Louis doesn’t know what to expect tonight. He doesn’t know what kind of image to portray. He pulls his jeans up a bit higher so they stretch tighter across his legs and arse and then rolls his eyes at Zayn.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon. Don’t forget the key. We don’t want a repeat of last Saturday. Sleeping in the hallway is almost as bad for my back as that time I slept with Mr. ‘let’s try something new.’ “

  
As they walk down the hallway to the door, Zayn groans.

  
“Don’t you dare tell me that story again.”

  
“So he rolls me over and…”

  
Louis dramatic storytelling voice is interrupted by Zayn elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

  
Okay so maybe he’s a gluttony for punishment.

...

Louis doesn’t exactly know what he expected of Harry Styles. After hearing the cautious outbreak of excitement in his voice on the phone, he possibly expected a slightly nerdy, slightly unattractive boy. In some corner of his mind, he knows that a muso such as Harry with a voice as deep and smooth as Harry’s happens to be, is probably the kind of person who can easily charm a whole room of people. Yet he never expected the swoop in his stomach as he walks into the room and spies Harry up on the stage fiddling with the mic, flanked by a muscly guy with a buzz cut and a baby faced blonde guy with a wide, cheesy smile.

Louis doesn’t know how he knows it’s Harry, other than that Harry’s deep voice on the phone was enough to indicate he was lead singer. He also doesn’t know how he winds up in the middle of the room until he registers Zayn’s hand on the small of his back and then feels its absence as Zayn goes to grab them some drinks. He’s still staring at Harry, the boy in the band who is not a boy at all.

That’s the thing. Harry Styles is a tall, long legged, curly haired brunette whose black jeans are even tighter than Louis’ and whose white shirt is halfway unbuttoned to reveal two swallows that glisten with sweat. He’s wearing a cross necklace and a chunky black watch and everything about him is effortlessly cool from the way he casually sweeps his erratic fringe to the side, to the way he turns and whispers something to the blonde haired one who looks at him for a moment and then bursts into loud laughter. Okay so maybe Louis is a little blind-sided but maybe Harry has a bad singing voice. Maybe Harry is secretly a tool. Maybe Louis will resist the temptation to walk up onto that stage and kiss Harry into oblivion.

....

It’s only as Harry is introducing the band that he spots Louis in the crowd, slightly left of centre and holding a beer to his lips. He tries not to screw up his pre-memorised speech, smiles what he hopes is a normal amount in Louis’ direction and then focuses on the dark, gorgeous man beside Louis instead. He’s only human after all and his brain functions much better with this beauty than Louis’.

“So um, we’re one direction,” the room cheers loudly, “...as most of you know. I’m Harry Styles, this blonde bombshell to my right on guitar and vocals is Niall Horan and to my left, we have our lead lyricist and other vocalist, Liam Payne. Now let the antics begin. This first song is one Niall and I wrote together after our very first gig. It’s called, “don’t forget where you belong.”

As he begins to sing, he zeroes in on Louis once more, unable to help himself and finds Louis staring at him with what looks a lot like awe. It bolsters his confidence, the way Louis’ lips turn up at the corners every time he holds a note and he finds himself transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away. He can’t help but appreciate the way his dark clothing sets off his tanned skin and when he turns to whisper something in the male model’s ear who stands slightly behind him, Harry is treated to a wonderful view of Louis’ extra wonderful arse. Not that he’s perving. As Harry finishes up the song, he winks at Louis and watches with rapt attention as Louis stares determinedly down into his drink and the boy behind him grins. The bar erupts into applause and Louis finally looks up at him, the piercing blue of his eyes distracting Harry and making him forget that this is his cue to speak again. Luckily for him, Liam prods him in the back and he remembers.

“Right, thank you for that. Our next song is a song that Liam wrote himself called no control. Hope you enjoy.”

He lets his voice blend seamlessly into roughness in the more intense parts of the song and is thrilled to notice the widening of Louis' eyes when he throws the microphone stand between his legs and rides it a little. He may be imagining it but Louis even looks a little panicked as he drags the guy behind him forward and begins to whisper in his ear once more. Harry is helpless to the feeling building inside him as the other guy touches Louis’ waist with a look of concern. He’s not jealous. That would be irrational and ridiculous… but the guy really does look like a male model and well, he can’t pretend he hasn’t dreamt about touching Louis Tomlinson for years now.

...

Louis feels breathless and exposed as Harry makes his way through the crowd to stand before him, his bandmates still flanking him with broad smiles on their faces. Harry’s face is flushed, his skin glowing under the low lighting and Louis can’t help but note that a mouth like his should be illegal. Then he realises he’s being swallowed up by deep, green eyes and he feels even more unprepared.

“Louis,” Harry says, holding his hand out for Louis to shake.

  
Louis takes it, his tiny hand being swallowed up by Harry’s large one and somehow it breaks the tension, allowing him to return to a state of semi-normal.

  
“Harold,” he responds, grinning, “Nice show.”

  
He turns to Niall and then Liam, smiling at them and is relieved to note that they smile back just as warmly.

  
“You guys are amazing, honestly,” he says.

  
“Thanks mate,” Liam answers, his eyes flickering from Louis to Zayn in an instant.

Louis raises his eyebrows at Harry as he watches the intense look going on between the two. Harry’s cheeks lift as he smiles and Louis is both appalled and delighted to find that he has dimples. God, Harry Styles is like the biggest, greasiest burger you could think of when you’re forcing yourself to diet and are trying to stick to salads and seeds. In other words, he’s way more temptation than Louis can handle right now. Niall, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air as he leans closer to Louis and grabs his shoulder.

  
“Love your segment mate. Always good for a laugh,” he shouts over the music, which is getting increasingly louder.

“Thanks,” Louis says, taking a sip of his beer.

It takes less than five minutes for Zayn to disappear with Liam and Niall, Liam’s hand suspiciously close to the small of Zayn’s back and Louis sort of wonders how they all seemed to move away in sync… without words. Whatever. He’s alone with Harry and he’s still not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing but he’ll be damned if he won’t at least try to enjoy it.

“Harold,” he says once more, eyeing him over the rim of his glass.

  
“That’s not my name,” Harry sighs but he looks less than offended, as he leans against the table beside him, tucking one long leg behind the other.

  
“Don’t care really,” Louis quips, “but keep complaining if you’d like.”

Harry bites his lip as though considering it and Louis is unable to stop the flow of images that stems from that one small action.

“Nope, I think I’ll give in…but just this time. I’m not always so docile.”

  
Are Louis’ eyes playing tricks on him or are Harry’s eyes burning holes in his face? His stare is more than intense and the words are more than easily misconstrued. Louis files it away for further analysis.

“So are you going to divulge the reason for this clandestine meeting?” Harry stage whispers, cupping one side of his face with his hand.

  
Louis laughs in spite of himself. This guy is both unfairly attractive and adorably dorky.

  
“Right. So clandestine,” he plays along, “well, I just wanted to say first off that I…I really admire you.”

  
Louis can tell that Harry doesn’t expect the sudden serious nature of the conversation. His eyes widen a little and he looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. A really attractive deer caught in headlights. Wait what?

“Ah…I…thank you,” Harry says in a throaty voice.

  
“It’s just, I admire that you had the guts to come out and to talk about it with me. We’ve never had a caller talk about their sexuality before and I’ll be honest with you,” Louis swallows, collecting his thoughts, “I didn’t know how to handle it at first but you knew what you wanted to say and you were so receptive to my opinion and I just wanted to ask you how you do it, to be honest.”

  
“Do what?” Harry looks confused.

  
“Be so bold? Like you said coming out wasn’t an issue but how can it not be an issue? Aren’t you afraid of what the world will say?”

  
Louis knows the words come out rushed and urgent but he’s caught up in the way Harry is staring at him, as if every word he speaks is just as important as the last.

  
“Are you?”

  
Louis pulls back in surprise. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  
“How do you…”

  
“C’mon Louis, you’re a no bullshit kind of person. Don’t bullshit with me. You wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t have some personal interest in the matter,” Harry reasons, “and before you go worrying about me saying anything, I won’t. You can trust me.”

As if to strengthen his statement, he places a hand atop of Louis’ that rests on the table beside him. Louis feels something strange swimming in his veins and is unnerved enough to pull his hand from beneath Harry’s. Harry’s eyebrows draw together for a moment before his face clears.

“Okay so I won’t deny it. And I feel that I can trust you. Don’t ask me why. I’m not the blind faith type…but when you were singing up there, it was so honest. I just feel like I sort of know you,” Louis implores, reaching for Harry’s hand this time, hoping to reassure him.

He still feels uneasy as Harry’s fingers twitch beneath his own but they’re having a moment. Zayn and Nick are the only two people that know he’s gay and even though they share the same preferences, Louis has never felt this connected with them. He can’t explain it.

“That’s why I do music,” Harry smiles slowly, “I love showing people what’s inside of me. And that’s how I do it, as in ‘be bold’. That’s why coming out was never the issue. I’m not ashamed of any part of me, including my sexuality and once I figured it out, it was just another part of me I wanted to share.”

Louis looks down and notices that his pinky is curled around Harry’s. He doesn’t recall initiating it but he doesn’t pull away when Harry turns his hand over, their little fingers still curled around each other. Louis is kind of equal parts enthralled and frightened of Harry and the way he speaks; so slow and steady, like a representation of the fact that he’s so positively sure of himself.

“I don’t know how to be like that,” Louis admits, staring down at his drink.

  
“It’s harder for you. You’re in the public eye. If you came out…it would be a lot to deal with. I get that.”

  
Louis glances up at him and finds Harry’s eyes on his mouth. He wonders if he’s waiting for a response or waiting for something else.

  
“Yeah,” he agrees, “but I know it’s wrong. It might help people if I did it…and I shouldn’t act like I’m ashamed. I shouldn’t pretend for the sake of other people. I guess I’m just a coward though because the thought of dealing with the aftermath… well it terrifies me.”

  
He lets out a shaky laugh.

  
“Hey,” Harry murmurs softly, tracing a line down his pinky, “you’re not a coward Louis. Just because I didn’t have an issue with it, doesn’t mean it’s not hard for other people, especially people who live in the limelight. I’m sure one day you’ll be ready to take the plunge but it’s okay if you’re not now. Come to terms with what it means for you and the way it will change your life first and then, make a choice. But you’re not a coward Louis. Don’t ever think that.”

  
Harry’s voice has gone rough again with intensity and Louis can’t help the way his eyes linger on his fleshy mouth any more than he can help the words that fall from his lips in the next instant.

  
“Kiss me,” he blurts without pause.

Harry doesn’t look perturbed though. Not at all. In fact his pupils seem larger in his eyes and before Louis can say anything more, Harry is standing up and pulling him outside by the hand. Louis breathes embarrassingly loudly as Harry continues to pull him along until they’re standing around the corner of the bar, in silence, the muted noise of the pub filtering out to them just barely. The streetlights light up Harry’s face just enough for Louis to see the dark desire in Harry’s eyes and the tense set of his jaw. He gasps a little as Harry leans back against the pub and pulls Louis into him by the waist. Their legs tangle together and their chests are pressed so tightly together that when he looks up at Harry, he finds their eyes barely an inch apart.

“For real?” Harry asks softly, his eyes searching Louis’.

Louis simply nods, unable to regret what’s about to unfold. That’s when Harry’s mouth lands on his, prying his lips open as Louis groans and buries his hands in Harry’s curls. Harry’s hands push his shirt up at the back, rubbing the small of his back. The next thing he knows, Harry is hoisting him up against his hips and his legs automatically wind around Harry’s waist as Harry’s tongue meets his and their hips begin to move in small circles against each other. Louis can feel Harry hardening against him as they move and he grinds harder in response as Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Louis can’t help his own pressing erection that begins to control his movements, so much so that his hips begin to ache and he imagines that from a third person perspective, he would be merely a blur of movement against Harry.

The angle is somewhat awkward, Harry having to cant his hips up to reach Louis and Louis having to press in a downward direction to hit the right spot but they’re both past the point of caring as Harry moans into his mouth and his fingers begin to dig into the small of his back. Louis is sure he’s about to come in his jeans and is just about to protest when Harry begins to trail his lips down Louis’ neck, drawing a surprised, broken off sound from his throat and cutting off his speech. As Harry bites down over his pulse point, he loses it, his legs tightening around Harry as he shakes with the strength of his own orgasm. He rubs his crotch desperately against Harry through the aftershocks which is seemingly not unwelcome given that Harry throws his head back in response and comes with a loud guttural noise that fills the night air.

Louis legs have gone to jelly and Harry allows him to slide down his body and then quietly sits down beside him on the pavement.

“We just came….in our pants…outside a club….after meeting each other once,” Louis summarises, knocking his head against the building.

  
“Yep,” Harry agrees.

  
Louis turns to look at Harry and finds him already staring, his eyes like two green saucers in the dark. They’re both still for a moment before Harry’s mouth twists a little and they both begin to laugh.

  
“We are disgusting,” Louis says after a moment.

  
“Agreed.”

  
“It was good though?” Harry says questioningly.

  
Louis gestures down at his wet patch.

  
“It was good Harold. Clearly.”

  
This elicits another spurt of laughter from Harry.

  
“But um…you know I’m not looking to get into anything. Obviously I’m not really in a position to do that…” Louis trails off awkwardly.

  
He can feel Harry’s eyes on him but he’s too afraid to meet them right now.

  
“Louis, I’m not going to ask you to be my boyfriend just because we happened to share a particularly good orgasm. Stress less love,” Harry assures him.

  
Louis does look at him now and finds bright eyes and a brilliant smile. Okay, so maybe he imagined the whole connection thing. Harry probably is a one off kind of guy. That’s perfectly fine with him. He’s not looking for anything more…obviously.

  
“So….friends?”

  
“Friends,” Harry agrees, placing a large hand on his shoulder.

  
“First rule of this friendship. What happened here tonight stays between us Harold,” Louis says sternly.

  
Harry grins and punches his shoulder lightly.

  
“Course. Wouldn’t want anyone to know my bro pal and I got off together.”

  
He uses the term bro pal. Louis thinks he might as well do them both a favour and just off Harry right here, right now.

  
“You’re a dork,” he says instead.

  
So his eyes crinkle when he says it and his smile is more fond than teasing, so what?

  
“You love it.”

  
Harry’s eyes twinkle as he stands and reaches a hand down to pull Louis up with him. They smile at each other for a moment and Louis doesn’t know exactly what it is, why he feels like he should remember this but he is certain that this is the start of something. He’s positive it will change him but for better or worse, he's not entirely sure.


	3. Chapter 3

The text comes just before midnight three days after what Harry thinks of as a minor lapse in judgment. Okay so it was brilliant… but truthfully they barely know each other and Louis is definitely not looking to get involved. Harry can do platonic friendships with devastatingly attractive radio stars, of course he can. He’s not a heathen. When his phone lights up with Louis’ name, his stomach twists a little with nerves. He pretends otherwise.

“Movie at my place tomorrow at 7? Zayn’ll be there. Bring your mates :) “

Harry bites down on a smile and leans his head back against his pillow. Louis Tomlinson wants to be his friend. Louis Tomlinson texted him first. He should probably stop thinking of him as Louis Tomlinson considering what happened but he can’t help but marvel at the fact that he’s going to hang out with somebody who he’s admired for the longest time. He drags his teeth over his bottom lip as he considers his response, feeling awfully like a teenage girl.

“I’ll be there. Niall and Liam too. Thanks for the invite .xx”

He doesn’t notice the kisses at the end of the text until Louis responds. He’d forgotten for a moment that Louis didn’t know him well enough to know that it was a regular and automatic addition to his texts. He hadn’t done it consciously. However Louis’ response might just be the reason he falls asleep quickly after that and sleeps more soundly than usual.

“Night Haz x”

…

The worst and best part of being Zayn’s friend is how observant he is. They’re barely an hour into the movie and Zayn’s already giving him knowing looks. Harry took the seat next to him and didn’t leave much space between them. Somehow Louis ended up with his leg thrown over Harry’s while Harry rests his head on Louis' shoulder and Louis lays a hand in his curls. But Zayn is wrong this time. Louis is always affectionate and judging by the soft mewling noise that Harry makes when Louis pushes his curls away from his eyes, it seems that Harry’s basically just a cat in human form. Never mind the fond smile that happens to be on Louis’ face at the moment. It’s just a natural reaction to someone as lovely as Harry.

Besides which, when Louis glares back at Zayn, he notes that Liam has thrown an arm around the back of the couch and is covertly glancing Zayn’s way, as if only waiting for the right moment to wrap his arm around him. Louis shifts his gaze to Liam and Zayn follows his eyes but doesn’t look bothered. Nope, instead he shifts closer to Liam so their thighs are touching and throws HIS arm around Liam. He looks awfully smug, perfectly aware that Louis had been hoping it would make him uncomfortable. Harry has shifted on his shoulder and is watching too while Niall lies at the base of their couch, laughing at the screen, completely oblivious.

“Cute, aren’t they?” Harry whispers in his ear.

Harry’s breath is hot against Louis' neck and he shivers a little. Harry’s forehead crinkles and he moves to lie on his side. Louis’ leg falls away from his but then Harry wraps an arm around his waist and he’s wholly distracted by the feeling.

“Quite,” He says, voice tight with tension.

  
“You shivered,” Harry says, tilting his head in the direction of his arm, “is this not okay?”

  
His big green eyes are far too doe-like for Louis to resist. He glances over at the happy couple and finds them both watching with avid curiosity. He raises an eyebrow at them both. Zayn looks tempted to ignore him but Liam elbows him and they both turn back to the screen.

  
“It’s fine Harry,” he says softly.

Never mind the fact that Harry’s soft grey sweater feels more than fine against his stomach where his shirt has begun to pull up exposing a slither of skin. He hopes Harry attributes any goose bumps to the cold. Harry’s arm is a warm weight against him throughout the movie. As soon as the credits roll, Louis jumps up abruptly, dislodging Harry’s arm and startling the other three boys with the suddenness of his movement.

“I need to wee,” he says stupidly, not looking at Harry as he darts out of the room.

He stands in the toilet for a minute, rubbing his temples, unable to understand why he can’t touch Harry or have Harry touch him without thinking of the other night. Without imagining what it might be like to touch Harry for real. What would it be like to see Harry helpless and willing beneath him? What would it be like to drag his tongue along the swallows on his skin and have Harry sigh his name with need? He groans aloud and hits his head against the wall. He must be sexually frustrated. He hasn’t had proper sex in a while. He definitely needs to get laid and soon.

As he slides out of the toilet, his bum presses up against something hard. He looks up into Harry’s amused expression and scoots quickly to the left.

“Oops.”

  
“Hi,” Harry says quietly, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  
Louis eyes slide down Harry’s patterned shirt to the tight jeans he’s beginning to think are his own personal form of torture.

  
“Need the loo?”

  
Louis curses inwardly. Of course he does, idiot.

  
“Yes I need you…Lou,” Harry’s smile is crooked and goofy.

  
Louis rolls his eyes but his mouth smiles anyway.

  
“You worry me Harold,” he says.

Harry doesn’t respond, just pulls himself into the toilet, still grinning from ear to ear. Louis is perhaps a fool if he thinks he can resist liking the boy.

It’s after the movie when he's returned from the toilet and the alcohol starts to flow that Harry gets to see Louis really in his element. Niall turns over and faces them and they talk for hours about nothing. Harry feels like the five of them have something unique, something that feels a lot like the early stages of an amazing friendship.

“So you told him to stop pussyfooting around and get a real job?” Niall guffaws, his eyes alight as he stares up at Louis.

Louis’ eyes crinkle at the corners and he’s positively buzzing from the attention. Harry can’t blame him. Niall does have a way of bringing out the brightness in others. Still, Harry’s never seen Niall take to someone this quickly. He thinks there might be a bit of a hero-worship thing going on at this point.

“Exactly and then he cried…live on the radio. And Nick’s pissing himself in the corner so of course I have to fix it. But I’m tempted to keep going, you know, all honesty and that. So I start to tell him that grown men who cry over things like that are probably not the type of people to be working in the kind of cutthroat industry he was interested in and Nick is waving his arms at me and panicking, so he makes them cut off the call, in the middle of the guy blabbering like a dying seal,” Louis gushes, his blue eyes sparkling.

  
“I don’t blame Nick,” Zayn says sleepily, his head resting against Liam.

  
“I remember that,” Harry remarks.

Liam shoots him a warning look but he ignores it.

“You do?”

Louis eyes are wide with curiosity but not unease.

“Sure. I was on my way to work. I had to pull over when you said that it seemed like you’d lost the connection with your friend...Alex the seal.”

  
“Why?”

  
“I spat my tea out all over the steering wheel,” Harry says, matter of fact.

Niall is grinning up at him, as if he’s almost proud but Liam still looks scandalised that he's just admitted how much he likes Louis' segment aloud. Harry can read their thoughts quite easily considering how well he knows them.

  
“Jeez, it wasn’t that funny Harold,” Louis says, placing a hand on his bicep.

Harry can tell he's pleased though and he may or may not reach out and grab his drink from the table just so his muscles flex under Louis' touch.

“I’m ready for bed,” Louis sighs, squeezing his arm slightly.

Harry knows it’s not an invitation but devastatingly attractive male radio presenters really shouldn’t say things like that…while squeezing his bicep…unless they intend to see it through. Harry forces himself to stand and Liam and Niall follow his lead, Liam looking more than a little reluctant as Zayn looks up at him from under his eyelashes.

“C’mon lads, let’s leave ‘em to it,” Harry announces, clapping them both on the shoulder.

Louis smiles up at him gratefully, not moving from his spot on the couch.

“Lou, don’t you dare fall asleep there,” Harry says, giving him a warning look.

Louis closes his eyes, his crazily long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Niall elbows him and he turns away from Louis reluctantly for a moment to find Niall mouthing “Lou” with raised eyebrows. Crap. So Louis hadn’t reacted badly to it when he’d joked about it before and Louis did call him Harold but he hoped he wasn’t being overly affectionate. Louis just looks so soft and cuddly in his trackies and purple hoodie. Harry hadn’t thought twice about it.

“Why not? ‘s comfy,” Louis mumbles, pressing his face into the couch.

Harry can hear the smile in his voice.

“Let him do what he wants,” Zayn argues from behind Liam, “if he wants a crook in his neck, that’s his problem.”

Harry considers doing just that for a moment but then decides against it, hauling Louis up off the couch and throwing him over his shoulder. Louis makes a rather girlish squealing sound that makes Harry and the other lads laugh.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Louis grumbles.

  
“Taking you to bed.”

Harry hears some sniggers behind him as he mounts the stairs and rolls his eyes, ignoring them. Such juveniles.

“You wish.”

He should have known Louis was no better

“I’ll dump you right here on these steps,” he threatens, letting Louis slide down his body a little.

Louis squeaks and grips his hip tightly for support. This was a good move on Harry's part apparently. As they reach the top of the stairs, Harry realises he has no idea where to go.

“You can let me down now.”

“Nope, not until I safely deposit you in your bed. Now, which room?”

Louis sighs and points to the one opposite the staircase. Harry’s first thought as they move through the doorway is that it’s fairly sparse. The walls are white, the double bed is white and the empty shelves are white also. The only details that Harry can really draw on are the photos of what must be Louis’ family on his bedside table and the rainbow bear that rests against one of the pillows. Harry dumps Louis onto the bed and then stands off to the side, eyeing the bear with amusement. Louis follows his gaze and flushes. Harry feels a giant tug somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.

“Shut up,” Louis mumbles, staring up at him from under his lashes.

He’s beautiful like this, all vulnerable and defensive. Harry can’t help but grin.

“Who’s this?” He says, picking the bear up.

Louis snatches it off him quickly and then flops back down again.

“His name is Donny. I thought when I was little that naming him after Doncaster, where I’m from, would be original,” he says reluctantly.

  
“And you still sleep with him?”

  
“Don’t mock me Harold.”

  
“I’m not,” he says truthfully, “it’s kind of cute.”

There’s a pillow flying at his face and he catches it just before it hits him, placing it at the end of the bed.

“I’m not cute.”

  
“I beg to dif-“

  
“I just get homesick sometimes. I don’t get much time off so I don’t get to go home as much as I’d like to.”

  
Louis voice is rather sad now and Harry is tempted to lay on the bed beside him and talk it out but he knows that can’t end well.

  
“You know,” he says, desperate to lighten the mood, “Donny would make a great gay mascot.”

It works. Louis barks out a surprised laugh.

“You’re ridiculous Curly.”

A new nickname. Surely that’s a good sign. They’re friends now, Harry thinks.

“Are we friends now?”

Louis sits up, his hair adorably ruffled at the back from lying on it. He looks sleepy and confused but his eyes crinkle up at the sides and the smile on his face seems genuine.

“We’re the dream team,” he says and then falls backward once more.

Harry walks over to the side of the bed and before he can even think about crossing lines and whether Louis wants the kind of friendship he has in mind, he leans down and pushes Louis feathery fringe aside, softly kissing his forehead.

“Night Lou,” he whispers.

Louis’ eyes remain closed but his eyelashes flutter once and as Harry leaves the room, he hopes that the lack of protest means something positive. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with Louis but he knows that Louis knows what he’s doing with him and if one of them knows what’s what, surely they can’t go too far wrong.

  
….

  
Louis can’t help but sneak glances at them out of the corner of his eye. They’re in the tea room, the three of them and Harry looks almost as vibrant and lively as he had singing, his green eyes filled with mirth as he throws his head back with amusement every so often. Louis is trying to busy himself preparing tea and assembling a plate of biscuits but he knows he’s doing a poor job when Harry finally tears his eyes away from Nick and catches him looking on. He smiles briefly at Louis but then returns his eyes to Nick who is already halfway through another hilarious anecdote.

The tea room is usually Louis’ safe space as most of the people at the radio station tend to get their hot drinks elsewhere and lounge around the studio instead of here. Thus it’s usually pretty quiet when Louis comes in, in the morning and is dead on his feet. Nick occasionally joins him and today is one of those days.

Harry had turned up at his house dressed in a blue flannel shirt, half undone as always and the requisite tight jeans and Louis had spent the majority of the drive to the station fiddling with the radio and pretending he didn’t notice the smell of strawberry shampoo in Harry’s softly drying curls.

“Lou, are you sure?” Harry had asked, tucking his chin into his neck as they stood just inside the building.

  
“Course Haz. Nick said it was fine and he pretty much runs the joint. Let’s go get some tea first though. I’ll show you my little hidey spot.”

Harry’s plump lips had lifted at that and Louis had taken it as agreement, beckoning for Harry to follow him to the tea room, which was basically like one of those cafeterias you see in American schools but with a large stock of every type of tea, no food and a grey tinge to the colour scheme.

Now as Louis’ attempts to pick up all three cups of tea at once, Harry is bonding with Nick who’d burst into the room a minute after them and had immediately demanded that Louis make tea while he pulled Harry over to a table and started in on the charm. It was ridiculous really, Nick thinking he had any chance with Harry. He’s about ten years his senior and surely Harry wouldn’t fall for such over the top flirting. Nick is wearing loose jeans and a light blue shirt that really just emphasises the extra weight he’s put on over the last few months. Not that Louis’ comparing….but he thinks that his own high waisted blue jeans and blue and white striped shirt are much more stylish. Then again, maybe Harry doesn’t notice things like that. Louis just manages not to grit his teeth or start hurling dishes as Nick lightly touches Harry’s forearm and Harry continues his laughing spree.

“Erm, some help would be nice,” Louis pipes up, sounding disgruntled.

Nick merely shrugs while Harry looks over at him with wide, panicked eyes as if he’s just been told that the leaning tower of Pisa has finally tired of leaning and is no more. Or something a little bit more traumatising.

“Oh my god, Lou. I’m so sorry. Here let me help you,” he apologises, jogging over to the sink.

He grabs the two cups in Louis’ hands and flashes him an apologetic smile. Louis just rolls his eyes.

“You’re a great person to have around if I ever need an overreaction,” he informs him briskly.

Harry narrows his eyes but just turns and carries the tea over to the table, Louis following a beat later, already taking sips of his tea on the way. Nick doesn’t so much as nod in his direction as he sits down.

“So Harry,” he bellows, “tell me about your music. Your voice is quite husky really, you must sound incredible.”

Nick stretches out the word incredible and Louis wonders if he could be any more pathetic in his attempt to flirt. What bothers him is that Harry doesn’t look put off as he rests his head in one hand and cups the side of his mug with the other. He looks…flattered, which isn’t the same as interested but it’s definitely a precursor. Louis isn’t a jealous person. He's certainly not jealous of the way Nick leers at Harry as he speaks, his entirely too large mouth open so wide that his equally large teeth look like they belong on a horse rather than a human. He's just mildly pissed off. Harry is his friend and he knows this isn’t the schoolyard but well, he’d brought Harry here to impress him, not to see him impressed with Nick.

“….but really we almost felt like we were missing something,” Harry is saying as Louis tunes back in, “like we always thought it would be really cool to be in an actual band, you know, five or so guys traveling the world together, doing what we love and hopefully making money off of it. Bit of a pipe dream I guess. We’re not gonna be selling out stadiums anytime soon.”

Louis open his mouth but Nick already has his open, of course, and beats him to the punch.

“I dunno Harry. I haven’t heard you guys but I’ve got my eye on you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you three were the next pop sensation,” he says, wetting his bottom lip afterwards.

Louis knows that tactic. Nick has told him on more than one occasion that the subtle wetting of the lips draws a person’s eyes to your lips without fail and if you do it well, they’ll be begging to kiss you before too long. Louis doesn’t allow Harry the opportunity to notice, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing a thumb across his shoulder blade to snag his attention. Harry turns his body in Louis' direction immediately and Louis stifles his urge to jump up on the table and do a victory dance.

“Don’t sell yourself short Harold. I,” unlike Nick, he thinks, “have heard you guys and you have real talent. I don’t know whether you’ll ever sell out shows at the 02 or anything…but don’t count yourself out too soon.”

He continues to rub Harry’s shoulder through his shirt as Harry stares at him intently. Louis -1, Nick-0. Not that Louis’ keeping score  
“Thanks,” Harry beams, “thank you both.”

Nick’s eyeing his hand on Harry’s shoulder so he pulls away, not wanting Nick to get the wrong idea. He’s not staking his claim on Harry. He can date whoever he wants, even if it is Nick horse-mouth Grimshaw.

  
….

  
Things start to go more his way once the show starts. Nick is the main presenter so he spends most of the time talking while Louis adds some comments every now and then but mostly talks with Harry while he waits for his segment. Harry’s sitting in a chair by the window looking out over the bustling London streets and Louis slides back next to him, noting the way Harry’s curls are beginning to flick up as they dry. He tugs on one to get Harry’s attention and then pokes his tongue out and goes cross eyed.

“You’re such a child,” Harry says with a shake of his curly head.

  
“You love it.”

  
“I love this,” Harry says, gazing serenely out at the scene before him.

  
“Really?”

  
“London’s...quite....big,” Harry says vaguely.

Louis imitates him because…well, just because.

“I had no idea London was big,” Louis gasps, “how ever did you find this out Harold?”

  
“Shut up,” Harry whines, “you know what I mean.”

  
“I really don’t.”

  
“Okay well you know when you’re young, you don’t really see stuff like this. Not in Holmes Chapel anyway. And if you do, you don’t really appreciate it. That’s why moving to London was so good for me and like, what one direction has taught me too. I just appreciate a good view now. I appreciate the chaos of London because it’s linked to my band and the start of my real life.”

Louis is leaning forward unconsciously now, pulled in by the intense green of Harry’s eyes. He pulls away swiftly as Harry turns to gauge his reaction. Right, sarcastic, brash response. That’s what he does best. So why does he want to ask Harry for more? Why does he want to hear about Holmes Chapel and his family and everything that makes Harry, Harry?

“You’re a wonder Styles.”

He compromises with a comment that’s half mocking, half admiring.

“I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or mocking me still,” Harry says, studying his face.

Louis smiles winningly.

“Don’t try to figure it out. You might damage that precious curly head of yours,” He says teasingly, running a hand over Harry’s damp hair.

Harry’s eyelashes flutter a little. So he really does have a thing for people touching his hair. Louis’ not sure whether to use this for good or evil at this point. He’s debating this question when a large hand grips his thigh and he comes to, noting that he was staring at Harry for an extended beat. Oops.

“Your segment’s about to be on.”

Harry is smirking at him, the bastard. Louis pushes a wayward curl into place and lets his hand linger, burying it in Harry's curls for a moment before removing his hand and sliding back to the desk. To his amusement, Harry is staring after him with hooded eyes. That’ll teach the boy.

Or so Louis thought. Harry spends the entirety of his segment pulling funny faces at him and mouthing dirty words, trying to get him to laugh. Nick is free to talk to Harry now and slides over to do just that but Harry scarcely indulges him, continuing to engage in facial communication with Louis as Nick talks in his ear. Louis finds this intensely gratifying. So gratifying that he lets a few laughs slip through his control and has to explain to the caller he’s currently speaking to why he’s laughing at the fact that they could possibly have an STI. Harry looks delighted by this and Louis ends up laughing for real, loud and unfiltered, when he mistakenly says the dirty word Harry is mouthing instead of the word he’d meant to say.

It’s after the show is over and he’s packing up his stuff that he finds his jaw set once more and his hands tightening around his mug. He can hear Nick whispering in Harry’s ear over by the door and just as he looks up, he sees Nick slide a business card into Harry’s back pocket, leaving his hand there for a moment before sliding out the room with a wink. Louis scoffs. Harry turns at the sound.

“Problem?” Harry queries, tilting his head.

“No, no problem. Just thought you were better than that,” Louis mutters, grabbing his keys and making to move past Harry.

Harry stops him by curling a hand around his bicep. /p>

“What?” Louis says sharply, looking up at Harry.

God how he wishes he didn’t have to look UP at Harry. It makes him feel vulnerable, especially when Harry is staring down at him with a mixture of outrage and shock.

“Nick was very nice to me Louis and yes, he happened to give me his number and no I didn’t throw it back in his face. It doesn’t mean I’m going to go out with him and even if I did, what is so wrong with that? You said there was only one way to get experience and maybe-“

  
Louis cuts him off right there as images of Nick grinding against him outside some club start to fill his brain.

  
“Thought I helped with that,” Louis says, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m not saying don’t go out with him. I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just saying, Nick’s not in it for anything serious.”

  
“Who says I’m in it for something serious?” Harry says with wide, innocent eyes.

  
“Your face right now tells me all I need to know,” Louis sighs, already regretting speaking up, “have all the fun you want Haz. Just…don’t let him break you. I kinda like you.”

Harry’s face shifts from those creases that Louis hadn’t liked to a breathtaking smile. Literally, it steals Louis breath.

“I kinda like you too Lou.”

Louis runs a hand down the back of his neck which feels awfully hot and prickly and then guides Harry out the studio, shooting daggers at Harry’s back pocket.

  
…

  
“Hey Harry,” Zayn says, giving him some approximation of a smile.

Zayn is flawless in all black, donned in that leather jacket with his hair carefully jelled with not a hair out of place. He reeks of effortless cool, leaning up against the front desk at the bakery with one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

“Hey. How did you know I worked here? Did Louis tell you?” Harry asks curiously.

“Liam actually,” Zayn corrects, not meeting his eyes.

Harry grins.

“Louis said you’d been rather busy and as a matter of fact, Liam has missed a few band practices lately.” Harry taunts, “Curious, innit?”

Zayn grumbles and slides some money onto the counter.

“Just give me it,” he says bluntly.

“Give you what?”

Harry wants to make him work for it. He can almost hear Louis in his head egging him on. He’ll have to text him when Zayn leaves….not that he was looking for an excuse to talk to him or anything…

“Liam’s lunch. Whatever he usually eats from here,” Zayn says reluctantly.

  
“Oh and how come Liam couldn’t retrieve it himself?”

Harry tilts his head, eyeing Zayn with barely concealed glee. Zayn flushes a little and then says something under his breath. Luckily Harry has excellent hearing.

“He’s a bit tied up.”

  
“Always knew the whole uptight thing was an act,” Harry replies with a wink.

Zayn glares at him with fiery dark eyes. Now he feels it. He shuffles off to the back to grab the prepared lunch and hands it over, biting his lip a little.

“Sorry Zayn. I had to.”

“For Louis. ‘s okay man. I get it. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

Zayn is the one smirking now and Harry does not like it one bit.

“And by that you mean?”

“Louis hasn’t stopped texting since he took you to the station the other week. And I saw you glaring at me when you thought Lou and I might be a thing back at the Albatross,” he explains smugly.

"I wasn’t…we’re not…he’s…we’re just friends. “ Harry sputters unconvincingly.

“Sure,” Zayn winks, “just don’t let my best friend break you. He can be a bit of a git sometimes.”

Before Harry can protest further, Zayn is out the door. Harry’s forehead creases as he considers the fact that Zayn has just given him the exact same warning that Louis had given him about Nick. Strange world. What a strange world indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis is sitting up on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as he watches Harry flit around the store cleaning up and counting money. He had texted Harry earlier and asked if he wanted to grab dinner after work and Harry had agreed, warning him that he had a few things to do first at the bakery but that Louis could swing past whenever. Now as Harry darts past him once more, Louis pulls the tie on his apron undone.

“Hey,” Harry pouts.

  
“How much longer?”

Louis is not opposed to using puppy dog eyes to get what he wants. It seems to work as Harry mutters something under his breath but throws his apron in the back room and then comes to stand in between Louis’ legs. Louis feels a little caged in when Harry puts his arms down on the counter behind him and traps his eyes. Louis wonders if anybody in the world has eyes as green as Harry’s.

“What are you doing?” He says, a little shake in his voice.

"Grabbing my keys,” Harry says with a smirk, jangling the keychain that is now enclosed in his hand.

“I hate you.”

Harry’s smirk only widens as he pulls away and then grabs Louis around the waist and lifts him down onto the floor.

“I’m not a child,” he protests.

“You are very little though. Just the right size for lifting off counters,” Harry teases.

“Let’s go. If I don’t get some food in me soon, my hangry brain is going to take over and I’m gonna take a swing at you,” Louis warns, striding towards the door.

Harry’s black t-shirt pulls up his body to expose his skin as he reaches up to turn off the lights and Louis takes the opportunity to slip out the door.  
…..

They came to a stop outside Harry’s flat about half an hour ago but Louis hasn’t prompted him to leave and Harry has no intention of doing so. They hadn't stopped talking all night at dinner and though it doesn’t come as a shock, the fact that he loves Louis’ voice, he always has after all, it does surprise him that they click so naturally. Who would have thought someone as funny and brilliant as Louis would be entertained by Harry, with his daggy dad jokes and his slow, rumbling voice? Certainly not Harry.

“So tell me about your family,” he says now as Louis looks up at him with a sleepy smile, his cerulean blue eyes glowing in the dim lighting.

Louis runs a hand through his hair and his eyes flit away from Harry’s as he begins to bounce his knee, a nervous habit if ever he saw one. He'd like to soothe him but he doesn’t want to interfere. Louis looks so lost, staring out at the street as if it holds all the answers to some unanswerable question. Harry simply waits, hands clasped together as he leans back in the car seat which smells distinctly like Louis' sweet smelling aftershave. Finally Louis returns his gaze, a hesitant but trusting look in his eyes.

“My family’s been through a lot. I won’t get into it but basically, my dad’s not really in my life and my mum’s seen her fair share of heartbreak. She got remarried recently and I think she’s a lot happier but I still worry,” Louis says softly, passing a hand over his face.

  
“You _think_ she’s a lot happier?”

  
“Yeah like I said, I don’t get down to see her enough. I’m just busy with my job and it’s caused a bit of a rift. Mum gets it I think but my sisters are a bit less understanding. Lottie thinks all I care about is the show and my younger sisters just ask me when I'm coming back to Donny.”

  
“Don’t you ever go down on weekends?” Harry questions.

  
“Okay…there’s a little more to it than my job…”

  
“You don’t have to tell me Lou,” Harry reassures him, “I just want to help though.”

  
“They don’t know,” he says so quietly, Harry wonders if he heard him right.

  
“Louis-“

  
“They don’t know I’m gay,” he says in a rush of breath.

The car is silent for a moment and all that can be heard is the distant echo of music from nearby clubs and the soft thrum of late night traffic. Harry feels like he’s walking on eggshells but he can’t help but reach over and cup Louis neck, forcing him to look his way. Louis’ eyes are watery but with flecks of steel too, as though he were expecting Harry to cuss him out or to be disappointed in him and were simply readying himself to fight back.

“Lou,” Harry says quietly, “it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.”

He’s definitely on the verge of tears and Harry can’t bear this. He rubs a thumb over Louis’ pulse point and feels his heart jump. He tries not to question it while Louis is sitting before him, all vulnerable and sad.

“It’s scary. It’s so scary not only to come to terms with yourself but to have to come to terms with how people feel about it. You don’t want to keep some part of yourself hidden from other people because you feel like you’re better than that but sometimes it feels like keeping it inside is the only way to stop everything from changing. Sometimes it’s just easier to live in a world where you’re not different.”

Harry speaks slowly as usual but the intent in his voice is clear as he continues rubbing the same spot on Louis neck, imploring him to see reason with his eyes.

“Harry,” Louis says after a moment.

That’s all he says before he removes Harry’s hand from his neck and takes it in his, intertwining their fingers.

“You’re the only one who knows,” he chokes out, “you just know how I feel even though I don’t even know how I feel.”

Harry swings their conjoined hands over to his thigh and smiles at Louis, dimples and all.

“I’ve been there. I might not have struggled this much. But I know it must hurt. Liam’s parents don’t know either.”

“You’d think in this day and age that it would be a walk in the park. There’s gay celebrities out and so many people advocating for gay rights. I mean, gay marriage is starting to be recognised in more and more countries. You’d think that I could take strength from that. And I do in some respects, but Harry, my mum’s happiness means more to me than my own and I just don’t know what she’d say or how she’d feel about this. I don’t think,” he takes a breath, “I don’t think she’d disown me but what if she couldn’t love me the same way? I don’t think I could deal with that.”

Harry notes that his touch seems to calm Louis. So what if their friendship is becoming more intimate by the second? He just wants Louis to feel better so he takes their intertwined hands and runs the back of his hand down Louis’ cool cheek. He feels Louis’ cheek lift under his hand and feels marginally helpful.

“Louis, she’s your mum, she’s basically signed up to love you no matter what. I don’t know her but I know you well enough at this point to know you can be a bit high maintenance and if she can put up with that then-“

“Excuse-” Louis interrupts.

Harry uses his other hand to squeeze Louis’ lips together and cut off his speech before he can protest any further.

“And what I mean by high maintenance is, you’re so fantastic that you merely require the same in return.”

He beams at Louis who just stares at him balefully with a look that says “you’re so full of shit.” Harry releases his grasp on Louis’ mouth.

“You’re so full of shit.”

Harry giggles. Louis’ lips quiver with the weight of holding back a smile.

“Is that a smile I see? C’mon Mr. Grumpy Pants, time to put a smile on that dial,” Harry coos, reaching over to pinch Louis’ cheek.

Louis bats his hand away with an exasperated shake of his head.

“You are the most ridiculous human being on this planet, I swear.”

But he’s smiling broadly now so Harry considers it a victory.

“Whatever you say….boo bear.”

Harry is already cracking up as Louis turns to him with horror.

“How in the hell did you…” Then his expression turns lethal, “I’m going to kill Zayn!”

Harry’s shaking with amusement as Louis jumps out of the car, slamming the door in his wake. Harry follows after a moment, crossing round to Louis' side and watching with glee as Louis closes his eyes and bangs his head against the car.

“It’s okay Lou, I promise I won’t tell anybody…I mean, not unless you give me reason to…”

Louis eyes flash open and he quickly whips around pressing his whole body against Harry’s so Harry is plastered between Louis and the car, his heart jack rabbiting as Louis' eyes transition from mischievous to dangerous.

“What’s your middle name?” He says unexpectedly.

  
“Ah, Edward?” Harry responds, trying not to notice the feeling of Louis’ body against his own; taut with tension.

  
“Harry Edward Styles,” Louis says through gritted teeth, “if you ever tell anybody about this, I will ensure you never tell anybody anything ever again.”

He leans closer for a moment and Harry unwittingly inhales his scent, feeling slightly or more than slightly intoxicated by Louis’ closeness. Before he can think any more disastrous thoughts, Louis releases him and climbs back into his car. Harry lets out his breath with a rush of air. He may well start calling Louis, Tommo the Tease, the way things are going. Louis doesn’t look even nearly as afflicted as he winks at Harry and then starts to pull away from the curb. Harry feels like this may well be his descent into madness.

  
….

  
So Harry had been so excited to go to the charity event with Louis that he’d spent a ludicrous amount of money on a black suit and a new bright pink tie. Louis had raised his eyebrows when he’d opened the door but had complimented him anyway as he came inside.

“You look great Harold,” he’d said, voicing his approval.

Harry had felt like an awkward prom date waiting for Louis to emerge from his room. Apparently he wanted to get ready after Harry came over so he could make a grand, dramatic entrance down the staircase like he was in a proper rom com. Harry thought it was ridiculous and was still angrily muttering to himself about attractive radio presenters who thought their time was more precious than everybody else’s when Louis’ footsteps echoed in his ears and he turned around to an image that not only made the words die in his throat but also rendered him completely and utterly thoughtless. He felt just like he was in a rom com as Louis descended the stairs in a tight, midnight blue fitted shirt, dark trousers, a dinner jacket and the best part of all; braces.

Harry may be gay but he doesn’t fit all the stereotypes. He cares about his own fashion sense but as for men he’d been attracted to in the past, he tended to think of clothes as a barrier to the real prize. Not that he’d really been with anyone yet…but he’d thought about it enough times to know that clothes were of little importance. Yet standing in front of Louis’ staircase trying to control his flabbergasted expression, he fekt the exact opposite.

Okay so not the exact opposite. He still wouldn’t mind sliding the braces off, undoing the tight shirt and trailing kisses down Louis’ torso…but Louis looked amazing all covered up. He really did. His skin was like liquid gold, contrasting with the dark colours he was wearing and Harry could smell his sweet aftershave as he drew closer, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having on Harry’s brain.

“What do you think?” Louis asked, spinning in a slow circle and giving Harry the perfect chance to ogle his bum in his too tight trousers.

“You look great,” He said tightly, trying to match Louis’ compliment from earlier.

“I dunno about the braces. Maybe they’re a bit much. I might take them off,” Louis said nervously, sliding a hand underneath one.

“No,” Harry protested, stilling Louis’ hand with his own, “I mean…you said to go all out tonight Lou. They’re not too much. They’re perfect.”

You’re perfect, he thought silently.

Louis gave him a strange look but nodded, grabbing his arm and towing him out to the car.

Now Harry watches as Louis flits from circle to circle of people, never pausing, never slowing, his lips constantly upturned in a grin as he charms them all. Harry doesn’t understand what is happening. Louis had been by his side earlier, his hand pressed against his arm as they sniggered quietly at the spokesman for the charity who obviously hated public speaking and kept mixing up his words. Louis had leaned into his side, a hand pressed unnecessarily to his chest, whispering amusing explanations of each person that passed their table as Harry laughed into his eyes and fell deeper into the black hole that was his feelings for Louis.

He doesn’t get it. He sits alone at their table now, knocking back glasses of expensive champagne that still taste awful despite its supposedly impeccable quality, his mouth sour more so from the taste of rejection than the taste of the champagne. It has been at least an hour a half since Louis left the table and he hasn’t returned once nor has he even looked Harry’s way. He just doesn’t understand Louis at all. Louis had been the one who was all over him, not the other way round and Harry had indulged him of course, thinking maybe Louis was coming around and maybe Louis wanted more too. But he’d misjudged the situation completely. He and Louis are mates, that’s all and he’d been an idiot to let a few intimate moments get in the way of that. Sure they’ve been in constant communication since they met a month ago and Harry’d felt like something was changing between them but he was wrong. Clearly Louis is exactly what Harry had jokingly debated calling him; a tease.

As he stares longingly out at the ring of people surrounding Louis, he hears a clucking sound in his ear and turns to find Nick staring into his eyes with a look of sympathy.

“You know why he’s neglecting you right?” He says, nodding his head in Louis’ direction.

“Cause he’s an arse?” Harry says dejectedly.

“No…although he is acting the prat right now. He’s jealous Harry,” Nick sighs.

  
“What?” He hadn’t seen that coming. “Jealous of what?”

  
“Not of what darling, of who. He’s jealous of me.”

Nick is eyeing him like he’s waiting for something. Harry feels his face crease up with confusion until he recalls the tight lipped smile that Louis had given him before excusing himself.....when Harry had been laughing with Nick…when Harry hadn’t been laughing at Louis. Oh.

“Well, I’m allowed to have other friends,” he blusters.

  
“He thinks it’s more than that.”

  
“I-“

  
“Harry, Lou’s my friend so I’m not going to be a dick about this. Talk to him. Find out what he wants. If it’s you, then I’ll be happy as Larry but if not…” Nick winks at him suggestively, “finders keepers, you know.”

Harry gulps.

“Are you propositioning me?”

  
“Just talk to him Harry. And well, you know how to reach me,” He says, flashing him a smile that is almost too broad for his face.

Harry leans back in his chair as Nick walks away, wondering what it all means. Could Louis really be jealous of Nick flirting with Harry? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything instead of just storming off like a disgruntled toddler? Harry’s head is starting to hurt and he’s certain it has almost everything to do with Louis and is only slightly due to his copious consumption of champagne. Nick is right. He has to talk to Louis. He can try to deny it all he wants but Louis has gotten under his skin and if there is even a slight chance that he has gotten under Louis’ as well, he has to know.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him, of course he can. They’re like laser beams through the room and every time he turns to speak to someone else, his eyes cross over Harry’s face briefly and he sees the disappointment pooling in those jade green eyes. Louis is being a crap friend. He knows it too. But he didn’t think Nick was coming tonight and even if he’d known, he wouldn’t have expected Harry to bask in his attention the way he had, so much so it seemed that he’d forgotten Louis beside him. He knows he shouldn’t be so possessive. He shouldn’t have walked away from the table. But something inside him doesn’t want Harry to look at anybody else with that wide eyed awe he’d had on his face ever since they met.

A selfish, insecure part of Louis just wants Harry to fall for him just so he won’t have to watch him fall for Nick. Nick who Louis’ seen break more hearts than he’s healed. Nick who walks into every room like he's the only thing missing from it and Nick that had once kissed Louis just to prove he was right about Louis being gay. Nick doesn't deserve Harry and that’s all there was to it. It isn’t jealousy so much as concern for Harry’s welfare. He's allowed to be concerned. After all, there is no other explanation for the sharp twist in his chest as he turns and finds Nick by Harry’s side once more.

It’s not too long after that he feels a hand on his lower back and he whirls around to find Harry staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

“Lou, we need to talk,” He says, his mouth a thin line on his face.

Louis knows where this is going. Harry’s slipping away from him…into Nick’s arms of all places. This is the part where Harry tells him to stop acting like a jealous boyfriend and he tries to explain why that’s not what’s happening. This is the part where Harry tells him that their friendship is done. Well, he’s not going down without a fight. He may or may not be emotionally stunted but he’s found that denial and avoidance are his best strategies for dealing with unwanted subject matter.

He grabs Harry’s arm, forcing a smile onto his face with effort.

“Sure but not now. Elijah wants to go dancing. You should come with.”

The words come out impossibly high and sound pathetic even to his own ears. Harry’s face crinkles as he studies Louis’ face and Louis waits for Harry to call bullshit and slap him around the head.

“Elijah?” He says instead.

Louis jerks his head backward to the tall, dark stranger he’d been absentmindedly flirting with while he pretended not to be watching Harry and Nick. He's tan, fit and wearing a purple shirt and trousers that accentuate all his best features. The man had pressed closer to him as the conversation wore on, eventually whispering the invitation in his ear. He hadn’t exactly given him permission to invite Harry or anyone else for that matter but Louis has to show Harry that things are okay with them. Even if it’s not strictly true right now. He has to show Harry he isn’t going to interfere with his love life….as much as he’d like to.

“Um, aren’t you worried about rumours?”

  
“Nope. There’s been plenty. I have a…team. They make the worst stuff go away and take care of the rest. Truth be told, I don’t know exactly how they do it, nor do I want to but it works,” Louis explains, trying to read Harry’s expression.

  
“That sounds…complicated.”

Harry sounds slightly off as he scuffs his shoe against the ground and part of Louis does want to address the Nick-sized elephant in the room but the other part of him wins out. The part of him that says talking about it will only scare Harry away.

“Will you come?” Louis presses insistently.

Harry looks a bit pained but when Louis looks up at him from under his eyelashes, his resolve inevitably cracks and he nods.

“Okay, I’ll just grab Elijah and we’ll get going.”

  
“Great.”

He doesn’t sound too enthused but Louis’ isn’t as concerned anymore. He knows just how to fix things. He just needs one tall, South American hunk, a dash (or more than a dash) of alcohol and the right kind of music for grinding.

.....

Though Harry’s really not feeling the idea of a club at first, he quickly changes his tune as Louis dances close to him, grabbing his waist and moving against his body in time with the music. Louis’ eyes are downcast at first but as the song changes, a sultry tone to the singer, he looks up with blue, blue eyes and Harry is powerless to the feelings flowing through his veins.

He flicks one of Louis’ braces and watches, completely endeared, as laughter bubbles up and out of Louis' mouth, his eyes scrunching up as he pulls Harry into a hug, his arms locked around his waist. He’s far too adorable like this, all touchy feely and boyishly charming. Yet somehow indecently sexy at the same time. Harry can see as his eyes flick across the room, that Elijah’s absence is due to the fact that he’s still trying to flag down the bartender. Harry can’t help but feel smug. Then he remembers he needs to speak to Louis and a touch of nausea rises in his throat.

“Louis, we need to talk,” he leans down, breathing the words into Louis’ ear.

Louis looks panicked when he pulls back, the laugh lines replaced by lines of tension as his eyes flicker to Elijah and back to Harry a few times. He looks torn and Harry wants to reassure him, plant a soft kiss on his collar bone and let him know that what he has to say isn’t so bad. But the thing is, he doesn’t truly know how Louis will react. Yet Louis’ seemingly decides on a course of action before, turning his back on Harry. Just as Harry’s about to ask him what’s going on, Louis pushes himself against him, grinding his bum against Harry’s crotch.

“Lou,” he chokes out just barely, grabbing him around the waist and trying to remove him.

But Louis’ not having it. He throws his head back against Harry’s neck and pushes harder, moving in time with the music now and Harry can’t remember why he wanted to speak to him in the first place. With Louis’ head tilted back like this, he can see every individual eyelash on his closed eyelids shimmering slightly in the flashing lights, his honey toned skin glistening as he moves up and down, pressing himself so tightly against Harry that Harry begins to worry he might just get hard here on the dance floor.

Luckily for him, that’s when Elijah intercedes, pushing between them and handing Louis a drink. He didn’t bother getting anything for Harry. Harry is relieved to be free of Louis’ relentless grinding but he’s almost equally relieved to note that Louis’ staring at him over Elijah’s shoulder with what can only be described as hungry eyes. Then, Elijah reaches around and grabs a handful of Louis’ bum, to Harry’s horror, and he sees those hungry eyes flicker up to Elijah’s face and away from Harry. Something new seems to dawn on Louis as he pauses for a moment, glancing furtively around and then pulling Elijah down for a relatively short lived but decidedly raunchy kiss.

Harry backs away from them and into the corner, still watching with his heart and eyes all on fire. He can practically see the words non-disclosure agreement written on Louis’ forehead as he draws away from the kiss, his eyes still focused solely on Elijah. Harry had been so convinced that tonight he would talk to Louis, tell him the truth about how attracted he’d been to him from the first moment he heard him on radio 1 and then maybe tell him how none of it had even slightly prepared him for meeting Louis and the very real feelings he was beginning to have for him.

Yet Harry supposes that the beginnings of feelings don’t have to transform into anything more. He can stop this before it really starts. There’s no question to ask Louis because the answer to anything Harry could ask is written in Louis' expression; in the one night stand that’s about to unfold before him. It’s in the way that Elijah keeps whispering in Louis’ ear and yes, Harry can see what are meant to be discrete kisses being planted on Louis’ neck. He sees lips gliding over the same spot he’d rubbed so soothingly in the car a few nights ago. It’s too much. He needs to get out of here. It’s as he’s hailing a taxi that his phone beeps. He slides it out of his pocket in the car, the screen lighting up his face and exposing his dejected expression to the cab driver.

“You right mate?” the balding man asks with a quizzical look.

“Just dandy,” Harry responds.

The cab driver doesn’t say anything more as Harry stares down at his phone, memorising the words, repeating them over and over so eventually they might start to sink in. Now he knows for sure. He was kidding himself to think Louis had been jealous of Nick. Louis has Elijah and who knows how many other guys to entertain him. Louis hadn’t felt a thing. Harry reads it one more time for good measure.

“Saw you leave. Should have said bye :( Srry for earlier. Should go out with Nick x”

  
…

  
Louis plonks himself down on the couch next to Niall, attempting a subtle evaluation of the current occupants of the room.

“He’s not here,” Niall says without moving his eyes from the television.

Louis can’t be bothered to pretend he wasn’t looking for Harry.

“Where is he? Liam, I told you to bring him,” Louis says irritably, glaring at Liam who sits tucked beneath Zayn’s arm on the opposite couch.

  
“He was…occupied,” Liam says awkwardly, sharing a loaded look with Zayn.

  
Zayn squeezes Liam’s side before turning to face Louis. He opens his mouth to speak but Niall beats him to the punch, his tone just as matter of fact as before.

  
“He and Nick haven’t emerged for days.”

Liam begins to slide out from underneath Zayn’s arm but Zayn stops him with a chaste kiss.

“Let me babe.”

Louis’ feels especially winded right now and he doesn’t need confusion added to the mix. Zayn doesn’t make him any less confused when he rounds the coffee table and slaps Niall over the head. Before he can ask what’s going on or comfort Niall who lets out a surprised squeak, Zayn slaps him over the head too.

“Zayn, what the hell?!”

Zayn just ambles back over to the other couch in a grey shirt and dark tracksuit pants, looking as calm and unaffected as ever, as he returns his arm to its former spot around Liam.

“Just to be clear, I only condone you hitting Niall,” Liam says, staring up at Zayn.

  
“Louis’ just as much of an idiot. Thought it was only fair.”

  
“Excuse me,” Louis interrupts, waving his arms around in protest, “can you not talk about us like we’re not here?”

  
“And tell us why the hell you hit us for,” Niall glares, his anger making his Irish brogue more apparent.

  
“Niall, were you listening at all when we spoke about,” Liam glances at Louis, “not mentioning the whole Nick-Harry sex romp thing.”

Louis’ hopes his face doesn't look as pained as it feels. He may have given Harry his blessing but he could use a little time to get used to the idea before he has to hear the intimate details of their sex life.

“No,” Niall huffs, “we were talking about dessert half the way here. How was I supposed to compute anything else after that?”

Louis reaches over and ruffles Niall’s hair because well, you gotta love Niall. Niall smiles at him for a moment before abruptly looking down at his feet.

“It’s okay Nialler. I don’t know why these two are so worried. I couldn’t be happier for them.”

If his eyes crinkle when he smiles, they just might buy it. He wonders if the effort involved is visible. The answer is provided to him when Zayn’s dark eyebrows pull together and he leans closer to inspect Louis.

“You look almost as pained as the time I dared you to kiss Eleanor in school.”

Louis rolls his eyes and turns back to Niall, ignoring him.

“I’m fine Nialler. Promise.”

Niall gives him a once over and then nods. He doesn’t know Louis well enough yet.

“Bull. This is why I hit you,” Zayn interjects.

  
“Did I ask for your opinion?” Louis returns sharply.

  
“Hey, Louis,” Liam begins to talk, placing a placating hand on Zayn’s thigh, “we were just trying to help. If you say it doesn’t bother you, we’ll believe you.”

Zayn looks tempted to argue some more but one pleading look from Liam and he gives in with a loud sigh.

“Liam’s right,” he says grudgingly, “but just…don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

  
“Warn me about what?”

  
“Never mind. It’s probably best if you figure it out yourself.”

Louis considers pressing Zayn for more but his phone buzzes in his pocket just as he’s about to speak.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it. H .xx”

He responds instantly, oblivious to the concerned looks being thrown his way.

“I know it’s you. You don’t have to sign off with your name.”

  
“H isn’t my name.”

  
“You’re being a loser, loser.”

  
“Not my name either.”

  
“Sorry…Harold.”

  
“No worries….Boo Bear .xx”

Louis smiles at the screen for a moment, unable to contain it. So Harry’s dating Nick and it doesn’t sit well with him. So what? It’s okay to not like his mate’s boyfriend….as long as it doesn’t interfere with their friendship. This meaningless conversation proves that they’re going to be okay. As long as Harry’s got his bad jokes and Louis’ got his embarrassing childhood nicknames, they’ll always have something to mock the other for. They’ll always have an easy camaraderie and uncomplicated bond. Nobody’s going to come between them, not even Nick-horsemouth-Grimshaw and his sex-romp ways.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s been about two months since Louis Tomlinson walked into Harry’s life and about two weeks since he started officially dating Nick. The moment hadn’t been particularly grand or romantic but he’d appreciated it for what it was and tried not to dwell too much on what it wasn’t. They’d been sitting together on Harry’s burgundy couch, his feet in Nick’s lap as they watched love actually, Harry just as overwhelmed with emotion as he was the first time he saw it and Nick, complaining that it wasn’t a plausible or realistic depiction of love. Nick had turned to him, run a hand through his own hair nervously and then grabbed Harry’s ankle.

“Think we should make a go of this then?” He’d asked, watching Harry carefully.

Harry knew exactly what he meant but he felt compelled to ignore it. He didn’t particularly want to take things to the next level yet.

“Want to be like, official?”

"Sure. Let's do that."

Harry supposes that Nick’s complaints about an unrealistic depiction of love directly correlated with his lack of romantic flair but Harry was tempted to tell him to try again next time. Harry liked the fluff and the clichés. He didn’t need a string quartet or anything ridiculous but he couldn't help thinking if only Nick had just asked him to be his boyfriend instead of avoiding the term. If only he’d looked less like he wanted to get it over with and bolt. It didn’t exactly pull on Harry’s heart strings but... Nick is a good man, a great laugh and Harry thinks Nick's even different with him, less brash and arrogant and less like the man Louis had warned him against.

So there it is, popping up in his mind again. Louis. Louis who Harry’s been studiously avoiding for the past few weeks as much as he can. He’s responded to texts briefly and passed on reasons for his absence at group gatherings through the other lads but he hasn’t been round to see Louis since the whole club debacle and he’s not sure when he’ll really be ready to see him again. Being exposed to Louis feels a lot like being exposed to a drug that he’s just quit cold turkey. If he were so much as in the same room as him again, he might feel that strange weakness that had begun to permeate his dealings with the lad before he’d realised that Louis just wasn’t interested in a relationship, let alone a relationship with him.

Harry’s lying curled up in his fluffy white doona, completely naked and completely….or almost completely at peace. He reaches over to his nightstand and flicks the radio on, the little green display flashing the time, 6 am, at his slightly sore and most probably red eyes. He could easily fall back asleep but Nick gets shitty with him when he doesn’t listen and if he’s honest with himself, listening to Louis continues to be a guilty pleasure. Before he'd met Louis, it had been about entertaining thoughts and fantasies he'd had. Now it’s his way of feeling like they’re still tethered even if Harry can’t exactly be close to him right now.

As the room fills with noise, he does a double take as he realises Louis’ talking. Though Louis usually adds in a few minor comments before his segment, he’s never let out a stream of words so long outside of it. It takes Harry a moment, his head cocked to one side, as he tries to decipher firstly, why Louis seems to be taking the lead with presenting and secondly, why his voice sounds so high.

“So I’m going to be leading the show today and Nick’s gonna take over my segment just to test out who’s a better presenter. We both agree we should be able to adapt to change quickly. I, for one thing, think Nick adapts to change like a duck to water….if the duck couldn't swim and the body of water was the Atlantic ocean,” Louis says and Harry can hear the evil smirk in his voice.

“Jerk,” Nick retorts.

Harry realises why Louis’ voice sounded unnaturally high to begin with and why it's leveling out as he gets into the swing of things. He’s nervous. He’s not used to leading the show and he doesn’t trust himself to do a good job. Harry might not be seeing Louis right now but he can deal with texting and a supportive text or two might be just the thing Louis needs.

“You’re doing great. Just as good as Nick. Relaaaaaax .xx” He sends

There’s a pause live on air and Harry curses aloud feeling like an idiot for distracting Louis but feeling equally confused as to why Louis would even check a text while on air.

“Right…” Louis says eventually, his voice coming through louder and clearer than before, “so first up is our assigned arrangement where Nick usually proffers his musical wisdom and plays the songs he’d like you guys to hear most as you’re traveling to work. Today I will be the devilishly handsome DJ bringing you the tunes I see fit.”

Harry folds his arms behind his head as he leans back, grinning at nothing. Nothing apart from the fact that his text seems to have given Louis’ a little boost.

“Okay so just like Nick usually gives you his boring little blurb about the meaning of a song, I’m gonna give my own jazzed up version,” Louis sounds like he’s positively buzzing with energy now. “This one goes out to a long legged, curly creature who may or may not be dating Nicholas here and who is quickly becoming my best mate. Sorry Zaynie. I just want to say to him that I know for one reason or another, he’s been steering clear of me lately but I miss him and I’d hate to see him go anywhere. This is for you Haz. Enjoy. This is chasing rubies by Hudson Taylor.”

Harry listens curiously as the words fill his ears and the message of the song works its way into his head. It’s not very hard to decipher, the key line being, “I hardly know you and I don’t wanna let you go.” It sums up their friendship quite well really. It hasn’t been all that long since they met but even from that very first conversation, Louis’ hadn’t quite been done with him and Harry had prayed for a chance to relive the experience. In some respects, they do hardly know each other but every interaction they've had felt impossibly intimate and filled with promise. Every time they were together, it was much like the world blurred around them and no matter what has been happening recently, Harry knows he loves that about them. He realises, as the song draws to a close, that Louis’ too precious to walk away from and that he has to stop avoiding him if they’re ever going to make it work as friends.

“Okay folks, this next one is a personal favourite of mine. Partly because it’s a great song and partly because it brings back a recent-ish fond memory. Won’t go into the boring details this time but suffice to say, it’s been on my ipod ever since,” Louis says cheerfully.

It’s something about the way you look tonight by Elton John and Harry’s chest feels tight as he recalls their hangout a couple of weeks ago, before the mess had begun. Louis had come over to Harry’s and they’d invited the rest of the lads for a bit of pizza and beer. They’d just been sitting outside in the backyard when Louis had turned to him with excited eyes, his soft brown hair spiked up at the back with his fringe falling softly across his forehead. He looked every bit the adorable child in his Manchester United jersey and black jeans with a large, unintentional rip in the knee.

“Oh god,” Liam had groaned, “What’s he planning.”

Harry had narrowed his eyes playfully, pretending to be analysing Louis. Louis just winked, proffering a far too alluring smile.

“Can’t tell,” Harry said, reaching out to grab Louis’ chin, turning his head this way and that, “but it’s definitely not going to end well.”

Louis pressed his wrist to his mouth and giggled, his cheeks flushing as he slowly became aware of the wide eyed looks of the boys surrounding him. He wasn’t exactly known for being a giggle pot.

“Oh shh,” he placated, giving them all a long look, “I was actually just going to suggest we play some music.”

“That’s not a half bad idea,” Zayn had conceded, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

But Louis reached over and wrapped a small, delicate hand around Harry’s wrist…or tried to anyway. Harry’s wrists are quite a deal bigger than Louis.’

“Harry gets first choice of song.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like “of course” but Harry barely minded when Louis was smiling up at him as if he carried sunshine in his fingertips. Truth be told, Harry was quite convinced that Louis himself was the sun in human form. When Louis smiled like he had that night at Harry's, Harry felt breathless. Those blue eyes would narrow slightly to accommodate for the puffiness of Louis’ scrunched cheeks, his long eyelashes sweeping against the tips of his cheekbones as the bluest parts of his eyes glittered with humour. God, how Harry wanted to kiss him when Louis leaned forward, placed a hand on his thigh and exposed those beautiful collar bones that always had Harry’s stomach in knots.

“Thank you,” Harry mouthed silently, sliding his phone out and scrolling through it for a moment.

He paused dramatically, his hand poised over the play button as the boys waited with expectant looks.

“Now this is an oldie but a goodie. This is actually a song I’d like to dance to at my wedding. This is….” He hesitated, his finger twitching, “something about the way you look tonight by Elton John.”

He pressed play and the soft, romantic melody filled the night air, wafting between the branches of the trees and somehow casting a rosy glow over the boys with its poignancy and general cheesiness. Liam drew an unwilling Zayn up and away from the table, wrapping his arms around him as they swayed and moved across the courtyard, Zayn protesting lightly but never moving his head from Liam’s shoulder. Harry had been watching them with fondness and he laughed as Niall leaped out of his chair and wrapped his arms around the twosome, swaying with them, just to feel like he was part of it and just because he was Niall. When Harry eventually turned to Louis, Louis had his jersey pulled over his legs which were drawn up to his chest and his expression was uniquely open and trusting.

“You’re such a softie,” he whispered, his eyes no bigger than slits as he smiled what Harry thought of as his “sleepy kitten” smile.

“Don’t you like the song?” Harry asked.

“I love this song,” Louis admitted, “I haven’t listened to it in a while. But I guess…some things just stay beautiful. Like even when everything is constantly shifting, there are those rare few things that amaze and will always amaze and sometimes they creep up on you and bite you on the ass. But you don’t notice the pain because you’re too busy reeling from the pleasure.”

Louis sounded content and hazy but Harry was just plain confused.

“Okay…”

“Dance with me,” Louis said suddenly, jumping to his feet as if he hadn’t just looked like he was about to doze off.

“Um…”

Louis pouted at him, holding out drooping arms as if he could merely convince Harry by looking pathetic and vulnerable. Yes, he was right on the money but still. When Harry had pulled Louis into the enclosure of his arms and rested his head atop Louis,' there’d been no turning back. Louis had begun to hum contentedly in his throat and they’d danced until the very last note of the song rang out and silence filled their ears, breaking the spell...but not for Harry.

That dance had filled Harry’s dreams for nights and he’d felt less and less like the boy he’d been before he’d met Louis. The one who didn’t have any idea what he wanted out of life. The spell hadn’t truly been broken for Harry until that night at the club but now here is Louis, bringing it all back with one musical dedication. Harry looks down at his phone and spies the text just as the song finishes.

“Please can I see you tomorrow? Have a surprise. Promise you’ll love it. Please Haz.”

Harry is busy pulling his bottom lip back and forth through his teeth, trying to decide whether he will see Louis and doesn't even hear the introduction to the next song. He starts singing absentmindedly for a moment as he plays with the edge of his doona.

“Maybe it’s the way she walked,” he hums under his breath.

When his phone buzzes again, he looks down and loses his breath completely.

“Not doing this to convince you. You deserve this x”

That’s when he realises that he’d been singing best song ever….by One Direction. He’s been singing his band’s song…which is now playing on the radio…being heard by god knows how many people. A lot. That’s how many. He feels like squealing like a girl as he grabs his phone and texts faster than he ever has in his life. He texts his mum, Gemma, Liam and Niall. The responses come halfway through the song and he grins from ear to ear as he reads them.

“My little superstar. You’ll always be my baby though xx”  
“Congrats ! Better not get a big head from this though. Let me know if you ever need to be taken down a peg. x”  
“This is the best thing that could have hapened to us. Louis is the best thing that’s ever hapened to us. He asked Zayn to get him that demo we recorded a while back. Stole it from me, can you believe it?! Ha! x”  
“THIS IS IT HAZ! This is just the beginning.”

As the song finishes, Harry still can’t wipe the smile off his face. His limbs feel like jelly as he sits in his bed, his hands spread across the sheets, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“That was best song ever by my mates, the good lads of One Direction. Simon Cowell, if you’re listening, take note. These boys have got talent...and the x factor and all the things that, that big record label of yours is looking for. Anyway, hope you liked it and it’s over to Karen now for the news,” Louis announces.

That’s when Harry finally calms down enough to text him back, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he wonders how he got so lucky as to meet someone like Louis.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Just been dealing with a few things. Thank you for the songs. Thank you for playing OUR song, you incredible human being. Let’s hang out tomorrow. I’m looking forward to my surprise. Don’t know if you can top today though .xx”

Louis’ reply is instantaneous.

“Fifty pounds says I can.”

“You’re on.”

  
…..

  
“Is this really necessary?” Harry grumbles, shuffling forward at a snail’s pace.

“Yes, now shh and just focus on your feet. I’ve seen how pigeon toed you are. I don’t trust you not to fall flat on your face,” Louis warns him, not budging from his position behind Harry, his hands covering his eyes.

Louis’ mouth feels awfully dry as he lets his eyes linger on Harry, taking it all in again. Harry’s got his hair pushed back with some kind of head scarf that bears the union jack and is donned in a low cut black t-shirt that displays his toned arms and his tight, tight jeans that never fail to drive Louis crazy. Louis feels less than attractive in a band t-shirt and matching dark jeans but he hopes what he has in store for Harry will be enough to impress him. He walks in front of Harry as they reach the stairs, taking away his hands from around his eyes and grabbing his hand instead.

“Don’t open your eyes,” He says hurriedly, “but we’re going to go up some steps now. Just step when I tell you to and don’t let go of my hand.”

They make it up the stairs with no major accidents, which Louis considers a victory and when he’s got Harry in the correct position, he releases his hand.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Harry’s eyes widen comically as he looks around, completely flabbergasted. Instead of speaking, he turns sideways and throws himself around Louis, his arms resting around Louis’ shoulders so Louis’ has no choice but to bury his head in Harry’s chest, his arms tucked around his waist. Not that he’s complaining too much. Harry’s t-shirt is made of cotton and it smells amazing. It smells of Harry. He tries not to inhale too deeply though, lest he be discovered. When Harry finally draws away, there’s a slight spot of moisture around his eyes. Louis can’t help himself. He pushes forward and swipes his thumb gently across the corners of Harry’s eyes, Harry watching him with an intense look the whole time.

“Sorry I made you cry,” Louis says tentatively, biting the tip of his thumb.

Harry pulls his hand away from his mouth.

“Oh my god Louis, don’t you dare apologise. This is…” he sounds choked up, “this is the best thing anybody has ever done for me. You got me into the 02 arena! You got me onto the one stage I’ve dreamed of standing on ever since I was a kid.”

Harry’s words blend together as he gushes, the slow beat of his voice absent for once. He keeps looking around and Louis can see how awed he is by it all.

“Told you I could top it,” Louis says smugly.

Harry doesn’t look put off. He shakes his head with an indulgent smile, pulling a fifty pound note from his pocket where Louis hadn’t noticed it had been resting.

“So tell me,” Louis says, gesturing outward to the empty arena.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me your dreams Harry Styles.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at the use of his full name but looks out at the vacant seats anyway, taking a few steps forward as he begins to speak.

“When I was younger, I came here for concerts and stuff. I went to a lot of concerts with my sister and my mum actually. And we’d always sing on the way back home. Mum always said I was good but I didn’t take her seriously. You’re mum has to say it, you know?”

Louis nods.

“The first time I ever considered that I might be even slightly good was when I was 16 and my sister and I were driving back in the car…and my sister said that I could be in a band, like I was good enough. She had never said anything about it before. And that’s when I thought, you know maybe I could do this. That’s when I started dreaming of this place,” he says, a faraway look in his eyes.

“And what about Niall and Liam? When did you meet them?”

“Niall I’ve known since we were about six,” he says with a soft smile. Louis likes the way his green eyes flicker with happiness at the thought. “Took Gemma saying that to me for me to go, hang on a minute, Niall’s a sick guitarist, he can sing a tune…maybe we should have a band. Niall was raring to go of course but we decided from the offset that we needed at least one more person.”

“Liam,” Louis concludes.

“Yes. Liam went to school with us too but we’d never hung out. He didn’t have many friends, got teased a bit and we’d just never really spoken. It was about a month after Niall and I had started jamming together and I walked past the music room and heard him singing. Told him what was what, that I thought he was good and that we needed him. It took him awhile to warm up to the idea but after one night spent brainstorming band names and telling stories around a campfire, he was sold.”

Louis feels a pang of loneliness in his chest even as he appreciates how happy the boys have made Harry. He’s never had something quite like that. Zayn’s been his best mate for as long as he can remember and he loves his partner in crime but they’ve never had that kind of clichéd, close friendship. Now suddenly he feels like he missed out, like maybe in an alternate universe, it could have been the five of them down by the campfire, singing songs and creating lifelong bonds.

“It sounds…nice,” he says, his voice breaking a little.

Harry turns to him with a quizzical expression, striding back toward him and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good. I just wish I had been part of something like that just once,” he says with a rough voice.

“And now you are. Liam, Niall and I…we may have known each other longer but Lou, we belong to you and Zayn now just as much as we belong to each other. We all feel it…every time we hang out...it’s like we could be brothers. Well maybe not brothers. That’s a bit weird…considering-“

“Liam and Zayn,” Louis hurries to finish the sentence.

“Ah, exactly. But we are one little family…in the most dysfunctional sense. Lou, don’t ever think you’re alone.”

Harry pulls him into another hug, kissing the top of his hair. Louis doesn’t protest. He likes it too much. His voice is hoarse when he speaks.

“So are you going to sing or what?”

“Really?”

Harry looks like a kid in a candy shop as he steps up to the microphone stand, the grin stretching his face.

“Really. Go for it pop star.”

Harry starts to sing and Louis is haunted by the sound of Harry’s smooth voice ejecting the words like they pain and soothe his soul in equal parts. His face is all creased up with effort as he croons the words but the words themselves wrap around Louis like a caress. He can tell instantly that the song is meant to be more of a fast track with backing music and not a slow, soft acoustic number. It’s not supposed to be sad and sultry, like the way Harry is singing it. But Louis likes it like this, all the better to hear Harry’s voice ring out across the arena, his soul shining through every single time he opens his mouth. It's the only kind of magic Louis' ever believed in.

“You don’t understand, you don’t understand, what you do to me when you hold his hand. We were meant to be but a twist of fate made it so we had to walk away," he sings.

Images of Elijah flash briefly in Louis’ mind before he shakes it off, refusing to entertain such a peculiar thought. When Harry’s voice lets out one last note which he holds, gripping the microphone stand with his ring covered fingers, Louis walks over to him and pokes him in the side.

“You’re too good,” he says.

“Too good?”

Harry looks down at him with a crooked smile.

“You make me feel things.”

Harry's eyes widen a little with exaggerated shock.

“Oh no, not feelings. Whatever will you do?”

Louis pushes him lightly in the stomach, determined not to take notice of the muscles that flex beneath his touch. Harry laughs at Louis’ disgruntled expression before grabbing Louis’ wrists and pulling his arms around his waist. Louis looks up at him, confused.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re so little. It’s just nice to remind myself how big and strong I am when you start trying to play the tough guy.”

Louis pulls his arms away and pushes Harry a little harder this time.

“Not. Little.”

Harry considers him for a moment before opening his arms up for a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Louis steps into the hug, “I’m sorry….boo bear.”

Louis stamps down hard on Harry’s foot but Harry’s wearing thick boots and doesn’t feel a thing. He bursts into laughter, crushing Louis against his chest as Louis tries to wriggle free.

“I hate you,” he says with a pout.

“You certainly do a lot of nice things for someone you hate…”

“Oh shut up,” Louis growls.

“Love you too, Lou,” Harry says quietly, loosening the hug a little.

Louis can’t help but smile down into Harry’s shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a little bit longer cause I just started uni and this one was a bit harder to write too. Hopefully it's okay haha x

Harry’s not exactly trying to impress Louis as such….but he might have had another rather tempestuous fight with Nick after he came home from seeing the 02 and he may have decided that as he grateful as he is for Louis’ continued affection, it's a bit much considering they're just mates. Mates who’ve known each other for less than a year. On an impulsive whim, he may have considered the tempting thought of pushing Louis’ buttons, if only so Louis can tell him to keep his distance. Inappropriate? Perhaps. Betraying his relationship with Nick? Quite likely. But Nick had ranted and raved at him when he’d returned from his day trip and then had proceeded to sleep on the couch, obviously angered by the fact that Harry wouldn’t be controlled and that he wouldn’t stop seeing Louis.

“He’s obsessed with you Harry! He wants you, not the way I do, not like he should...but he does. Why can’t you see that?!” Nick had implored with maddened eyes.

Harry told him he was turning into a bitter and possessive old man which rankled him further considering Louis had already been in Nick’s ear recently, making snide remarks about their age gap. Somewhere inside, Harry knew it wasn’t a good idea, that he wasn’t being fair to Nick…or himself really but he’d been constricted by Louis’ and Nick’s plans for him for a while now and he was tiring of it quickly. He wanted out.

He pulls the flannel button down shirt from his wardrobe, slipping his arms through the sleeves with pleasure. It is fairly soft on his skin and he knows that Louis will like it after seeing him grin appreciatively at Niall, the one time he’d worn flannel. It’s warm enough tonight that he can get away with leaving it unbuttoned three quarters of the way, exposing his tattoos and the skin he’d scrubbed and moisturised to perfection. He sprays a spritz of cologne and pulls on his tightest jeans then smooths a bit of gel in his hair and pulls his curls back, making a small quiff like pile on his head. The final touches are his cross necklace, a few bracelets and some chapstick on his lips. Not because he plans on kissing Louis…but just because he plans on Louis wanting to kiss him. Liam walks into his room as he’s checking himself out, hoping it’s enough to scare Louis away while secretly hoping it might have the opposite effect.

Liam whistles as he walks through the door and Harry spins around, caught off guard.

“You’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

  
“Shut it Li. You debated wearing that snapback for at least fifteen minutes,” Harry retorts, not in the mood to be undermined.

  
“You know what the difference is though mate? I’m going to see my boyfriend,” Liam reminds him with a meaningful look.

Harry jumps on this chance to distract him.

“Boyfriend, hey? When did that happen?”

Liam blushes.

“Well…it hasn’t exactly…” he pulls the snapback lower, “zayn hasn’t asked me.”

  
“Why don’t you ask him?” Harry says without pause, undoing one more button.

  
“You know what school was like for me. What if it’s like that? What if I’m just that kid asking for a friend and always being told no. Except it’ll be worse this time because I lo…because I really care,” Liam finishes awkwardly, his eyebrows pulling together as he stares determinedly at the ground.

Harry crosses the room quickly and throws his arms around him.

“Li, first of all...I know you love him. I’m fairly certain he loves you too. It might not have been long but he looks at you,” Harry sighs, “he looks at you the way I look at Louis.”

Liam draws back from the hug with a shocked look on his face.

“I knew you were crazy about Louis…but really, you feel that much? What about Nick? Harry, you can’t just lead him on.”

Harry rolls his eyes at Liam’s disapproving tone.

“It’s not like that. I need to get over Louis. Nick is helping, really. I do have feelings for him...it’s not a ruse I swear,” Harry insists.

Liam doesn’t move an inch, still staring at him like he can make Harry change just with the weight of his disapproval.

“Anyway,” Harry says loudly, “we were talking about you and Zayn. Li, it’s really not going to be like you think. Zayn would never be as cruel as those kids were….and honestly, I don’t think he’d ever reject you. Just tell him how you feel. Tonight.”

Liam’s eyes soften a little as he claps Harry on the shoulder.

“I’ll consider it. But just….please don’t hang all over Louis tonight. I don’t think it’s…appropriate…considering. It’s not gonna help you move on.”

Liam looks like he wants to say more but Harry smiles his most charming smile, disarming him instantly. He knows now that if he’s still going to go through with this, he has to make sure that he’s never alone with Liam. Otherwise he’s going to cop an earful about doing the right thing and moving on with his life. If he wanted to be lectured like that, he’d call his mum. Right now all he wants is to show Louis that he can tease just as well, he can tease so well that Louis will be begging him for mercy before he’s even pulled out his favourite trick.

  
…..

  
Louis opens the door to see the other part of their motley crew laughing with each other. It’s a sign that Harry’s reassurance made a difference to him when he realises there’s no jealousy, just a high degree of fondness for the boy with the black and red snapback and boyish smile, the boy with a laugh that’s more of a cackle than anything and the boy who...

His eyes fall on Harry and fondness is replaced with something much more intense and dangerous. Harry’s flannel shirt is hanging off him, his pectoral muscles reflecting the light from the hallway of the building while his hair is styled in some form of laidback quiff. He looks more manly than Louis’ ever seen him and god damn is it a turn on when he throws his head back a little as he laughs, those full, red lips exposing perfect teeth and a smile that could break hearts all over the world.

Louis pulls Harry inside by the belt loop on his jeans, ignoring the others as he stares at the perfect picture in front of him. Zayn ambles over and greets Liam with a lingering kiss, offering Harry and Niall, a much less affectionate greeting. The boys make their way out to Louis and Zayn’s patio but Louis just motions for Harry to follow him to the kitchen, not saying a word until the back door clicks shut and he’s got Harry in front of him, leaning up against the rickety wooden table in the middle of the room.

“Harry,” he says, voice rough, “You look….wow.”

Harry smiles briefly before gesturing at Louis’ basic ensemble of jeans and a singlet bearing the name of a band he used to like.

“You look…wow too.”

He’s smirking and it’s disturbingly attractive.

"I know I haven’t earned any hipster cred with my lack of jewellery and my interest in this band. I’m too mainstream,” Louis sighs dramatically.

Harry laughs, crossing the floor and grabbing Louis by the hip.

“You don’t need to earn my approval.”

His green eyes are sparkling with mischief. Louis is once more caught off guard when Harry leans forward and sniffs a little, sighing happily as he leans back.

“Thought so. You’re wearing the same cologne as the first time we met. You smell incredible,” Harry murmurs and if he’s not mistaken, Harry’s eyes flicker down to his lips, his collar bones and then finally meet his gaze once more.

Louis’ head feels fuzzy as he tries to decipher the signals being thrown his way. Harry’s with Nick. Harry’s happy with Nick and Louis is his mate. So why is there a secretive smile perched on his lips as he watches Louis struggle internally with what to say?

“Let’s join the lads,” Louis says eventually, his eyes avoiding Harry as he turns and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the back door.

But just as his hand reaches out to turn the knob, he feels Harry’s arms on his waist spinning him around and suddenly his body is pinned to the wall beneath Harry’s. Harry’s so close that Louis notices for the first time that there are tiny flecks of blue in the sea of green that is his eye colour. His body is flush against Louis' and Louis wants to move, to struggle away and tell Harry that this is wrong but something inside him squashes the thought. He feels his fight leave him as Harry draws closer to his lips. Just as he lets out a small gasp, Harry’s head glides past his lips to his ear. He holds back a disappointed moan.

“Why can’t you just take the compliment Lou. No need to run away from me,” Harry breathes and is Louis mistaken or does he purposely tilt his head so that the side of his face slides intimately against Louis’ when he pulls away?

Louis’ heart is erratic as he looks up at Harry with fright. This Harry is one he’s never met. This Harry will be the end of him. This Harry pulls him outside by the elbow, barely giving him time to control his expression for the other boys.

The next hour continues to be fraught with peril for Louis as he watches Harry transform from the bumbling boy who complained of having “no experience” to the flawless creature before him who winks at Louis as he takes a swig from his beer bottle and catches Louis’ eye as their feet accidentally….or perhaps not so accidentally…tangle together under the table.

It’s torture. Real live torture. It’s confusing as all hell, the way Harry looks at him, all teasing and flirtatious. Even more confusing is the seemingly silent conversation flowing between Liam and Harry every time Liam catches one of Harry’s winks or lingering looks. He glares at Harry, Harry glares back and then Liam turns and whispers something in Zayn’s ear which has Zayn glaring at Harry too.

The moment Louis knows he’s done for comes when Harry randomly decides he’s hungry and asks Louis if they happen to have any fruit. Louis points inside, telling him there’s a fruit bowl (not that he’s touched it) on the corner of the bench. The moment Harry slips back into his chair, peeling a banana open, is the moment Louis' composure cracks visibly, the tendons in his throat tightening as he kicks Harry in the shin.

“Ow, what was that for?” Harry complains just as his mouth is poised over what is a decidedly large banana.

Luckily the other boys are busy debating whether Monica and Chandler or Ross and Rachel make a better couple and don’t pay any mind to Louis and Harry’s little squabble.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Louis asks, arching his eyebrow.

  
“Getting my daily dose of potassium,” Harry responds with wide, innocent eyes before sinking his mouth down and over a large portion of the banana, lingering for a moment, his eyes on Louis, before he sucks the piece off and into his mouth.

Louis is transfixed, his throat awfully dry as Harry swallows then licks away the remnants of banana on his bottom lip. Louis' jeans feel awfully tight and he wonders how anybody could be that suggestive and indecently sexy without even trying. It’s so blood enticing that it's as if Harry is trying to-

That’s when Louis’ eyes widen and he chokes on the beer he’s sipping. Harry IS trying. Harry is trying to seduce him…or at least trying to make him think that he’s seducing him. Why? Louis doesn’t know. But he knows Harry’s being a proper arse, thinking he can get away with this just because Louis happens to find him attractive. Thank god he doesn’t know about the rest of it, about the weird feeling Louis' been having in the pit of his stomach whenever he thinks about Harry and Nick ending up together. If this is Harry’s way of taunting him with what he can’t have, he’s about to be taken down a peg or two.

Harry is the captain of charm, it's true but Harry has never seen Louis really turn it on, not the way he would have if he hadn’t been denying his very nature. But it’s just the boys tonight, no one to hide from and Louis knows exactly how to push Harry over the edge. He’s going to teach Harry a lesson and when the night’s over, Harry will be calling him prince charming. Err…not that he’s Harry’s prince charming, just a basic, princess-less, single prince with plenty of charm.

…..

  
Harry is not prepared for this. He’s not prepared for Louis slinging his arms around his neck and whispering in his ear. His breath is hot against Harry's cheek as he fights a wave of desire. The banana trick had worked a treat but now Louis is hanging off him, all affectionate and Harry is beginning to think it might have worked just a little too well.

“I once pantsed Harry on stage at a gig,” Liam giggles, a bit too much liquor in his system.

It’s dark out now and the lanterns around Louis and Zayn’s garden turn on automatically, lighting the table with a white glow and illuminating the fact that Zayn’s hand is in a suspiciously intimate place on Liam’s lap under the table. No one says anything. Liam looks a little dazed though, a bright brush of colour spanning across his cheeks.

“I remember that,” Niall says cackling, “all the women squealed like crazy.”

Harry thinks he feels Louis’ lips against the skin behind his ear but then wonders if he imagined it as Louis whispers another flirty comment in his ear.

“I’d squeal for your behind too.”

Louis eventually climbs into his lap and Harry has no choice but to grab his tiny waist to stop him falling off the side of the chair as he wriggles against Harry's groin trying to get comfortable. All the boys are shooting them concerned looks now and eventually Harry can’t take it anymore. Louis’ bum is pressing against him just right, or just wrong, and when Louis turns around, his arms slung around Harry’s neck, his bum moves with him, rubbing especially hard against Harry’s dick. Harry pushes Louis off his lap abruptly and stands up with panicked eyes.

“Um, I think I’m going to go,” he mutters.

Louis pouts at him with big blue eyes. Harry's not falling for it. Not this time.

“Why Harold? We were having such a nice time.”

His voice is sugary sweet. Harry doesn’t buy the whole innocent act.

“I need to go. Li, you coming?”

He can already tell from the look on Liam’s face what his answer is as he smiles slowly up at Zayn but he asks anyway. Anything to escape Louis’ question.

“Nah, I’m gonna kip here tonight. You go on home though mate.”

Niall gives him a short wave and a grin and then he’s turning and walking quickly back inside before Louis can say anything else. He breathes a sigh of relief as he reaches the kitchen…until he hears the back door click and suddenly finds himself pressed up against the fridge, two tanned, tattooed arms barring his escape from either side.

“What on earth did you think was going to happen?” Louis says sharply.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow as he notes the fire flashing in the blue eyes before him. What reason could Louis possibly have to be angry? Louis was the one climbing all over him....flashing heart eyes at him…doing everything he possibly could to…oh. Right. Louis’ face turns even harsher as he sees the recognition in Harry’s eyes.

“Got it now? You started this Harry. Or do you not remember your little phallic themed performance from earlier?”

Harry flushes a little, staring down at his feet with shame. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He just wanted Louis to stop being so affectionate. He thought he could make Louis sweat under his ministrations and then perhaps Louis would realise that doing all these nice things for him, texting him all the time and hanging off him…it wasn’t okay. He thought if he upped the ante, Louis would retract without him having to make any conscious effort to retract from Louis himself. Instead, Louis had flirted right back…only it was all in the name of teaching him a lesson.

“I’m…sorry. Did it bother you?”

He can’t help his pathetic plea for some semblance of approval. He’s honestly a mess right now, constantly torn between wanting Louis to push him away and wanting Louis to pull him closer. It must show in his face. Louis sighs and then leans forward and nips at Harry’s lips. It’s just a quick, chaste peck but Harry’s eyes flash up to Louis’ only to see his eyes cast down, his eyelashes fluttering as he opens his mouth.

“It did bother me. Of course it bothered me. You had a massive, penis shaped piece of fruit in your bloody gorgeous mouth. Jesus Harry. You’re making me crazy. What were you even trying to achieve?”

Louis’ plea is desperate, his blue eyes flicking across Harry’s face and searching for an answer he won’t find. Harry doesn’t think he has one that will make sense. Yet he can’t even find it in himself to be happy for disturbing Louis so. He’s too disturbed himself.

“I don’t know. God, Louis I’m sorry. It’s just…our friendship is so handsy and intimate and I just thought…I thought maybe if I pushed you a bit further, you’d put some distance between us. Because I can’t. I don’t want to. Or maybe…maybe I just wanted to know I could…affect you somehow,” his voice breaks on the word ‘affect,’ “because sometimes I think you’re totally impervious. I dunno what to say Lou. Nick and I had a fight and I was just being impulsive and irrational. I didn’t mean to be such a shit.”

Louis’ eyes are blown wide and Harry wishes he could read his mind right now because he can’t tell if Louis is just shocked…or if he’s horrified. Maybe he thinks Harry is a terrible person. Harry feels like a terrible person.

“Impervious? Harold, if I was so impervious, you wouldn’t have had me drooling over you for hours. Yes, I was trying to teach you a lesson but I won’t lie. It’s not all…business,” his says, his face taut with tension.

"Nick and I fought about this.”

Harry brings Louis’ hands down now and places them on his hips. Just because. Louis doesn’t remove them.

“About us?”

Harry feels a little buzz at the concept but quickly scraps the thought, noticing the tension in Louis’ face.

“He said…you want me.”

Harry stares off over Louis’ shoulder now, biting his lip with no real hope of a satisfactory answer. When the reply comes, he almost bites right through his lip.

“I do.”

Harry’s eyes flash back to Louis who is rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like he’s nervous or deciding something. He looks so internally conflicted, his forehead creased like he’s trying to solve a difficult math problem. Harry’s hands cup Louis’ face of their own accord and that’s when Louis looks at him dead on, abandoning the rocking movement and grabs his face, smashing his mouth down against Harry’s with a whispered "oh fuck it". Harry stumbles backward into the fridge they’d unconsciously moved away from, the force of the impact completely taking him by surprise. He can’t comprehend much else as Louis licks into his mouth and he loses all control of his body, his hands sliding into Louis’ hair, a muffled groan rising in his throat.

Louis’ breaks it off after a few moments but he looks wrecked, even to Harry, his eyes blown wide and wild, his mouth a little swollen as he takes two steps back and away from Harry.

“I-“He begins.

  
“Please don’t say it was a mistake,” Harry interrupts.

Louis’ eyes are dark, too dark, when he grabs Harry’s hand and starts dragging him towards the door. Harry stills him with a sharp tug.

  
“Louis, wait. What are we doing? Where are we going?”

  
“To your place,” Louis whispers, then seems to second guess himself, “….if you want.”

  
“Of course I want to Lou. I always want you. But if we’re going to go through with this…I should probably speak to Nick…I should-“

Louis cuts off his words with a kiss, pulling him in by his curls. Harry sinks into it once more, allowing their tongues to slide against each other as they each fight for control. He forcibly pulls away with a gasp after a minute or so, wishing he could be as in the moment as Louis.

“Just give me tonight Haz. I need this. You can talk to Nick tomorrow,” Louis pleads, tugging on his hand.

  
“And what about the boys? You going to tell them you’re coming home with me?”

Louis looks confused for a moment as if he’s forgotten anybody else even exists but then that determined pucker of his lips returns and Harry knows without a doubt that he has no hope of fending him off.

“I’ll just go tell them I’m going to bed. They won’t think twice about it. I’ll sneak back in tomorrow,” he says decisively.

Harry’s nod is jerky and a little bit manic but Louis takes it a sign of consent, leaning in for a quick kiss before he darts out the door to talk to the boys. Harry runs a trembling hand through his hair. They haven’t talked about Nick or what they’ve been feeling and Louis really hasn’t agreed to anything more than tonight but Harry can’t help but hope. He can’t help but imagine waking up and finding Louis, all sleepy and childlike and peppering his face with kisses because he loves him and because he can. Yet he realises a moment later that he has to make it through tonight first. He’s about to go home with Louis-fucking-Tomlinson. How on earth did this become his life and how on earth will he ever survive the next couple of hours without collapsing into a pile of nerves?

  
….

Louis’ hands are around Harry’s neck, the moment they stumble through the door, the key falling to the ground with a soft clink as he pulls Harry down into a greedy kiss. He melds their mouths together so tightly that he can taste the traces of the mint that Harry had tried to inconspicuously consume on the car ride here. The thought makes him smile into the kiss and Harry feels it, reaching up to softly stroke the crinkles by his eyes.

“Beautiful,” Harry sighs, planting a kiss by the corner of his mouth.

Louis’ rolls his eyes as he pushes Harry up against the door, taking the time to lower his gaze over every part of Harry’s body from the tip of his lovely curls to the light brown boots that adorn his feet. Harry slips them off as he sees Louis checking them out. He is so very lovely and Louis attempts to make this clear, running his palms up his abs to his pectorals and across his shoulders.

“Says you. You’re quite the….package.”

Louis’ winks at him lasciviously. Harry spurts a shot of laughter into his closed fist, his green eyes lightening magnificently.

“And you think I’m ridiculous?!” He says, incredulously.

  
“Nope,” Louis smiles, his whole face stretching, “I think you’re….ridiculously well endowed.”

That’s when he reaches out a hand and grabs Harry’s cock and Harry twitches immediately. Louis’ is not opposed to the lure of classical seduction, not at all, but he is and always will be an entertainer. He loves the way Harry’s Adam’s apple jumps when he releases his hand, only to squeeze Harry tight again moments later. He loves that immediately after, Harry’s head is tilted back against the door as he laughs at Louis’ impression of him eating the banana. Whoever said a sense of humour isn’t sexy was quite obviously wrong.

Yet it’s when Louis unzips Harry’s jeans and slips a hand inside his black briefs, that Harry’s face loses all traces of humour, contorting with desire instead. His hand grapples to find something to hold onto as Louis takes hold of him, moving his hand across Harry’s length as slowly and teasingly as he can. Harry forcibly pushes him away after a moment, shoving both his jeans and briefs down his legs in record time. He stands before Louis, in all his glory, looking kind of ridiculous in flannel and nothing else but stunning nonetheless as he stands to attention, already semi hard from just a few quick touches.

Louis stands back for a moment, turning his head this way and that, like an artist trying to judge the composition of its subject. Harry fidgets a little under his gaze.

“Louis,” he whines, holding his arms out.

Louis pauses for a moment, deciding and then does a running jump into Harry’s arms, praying he's as adaptable as he seems. Luckily Harry seems to have caught on quickly, his arms winding around his waist as Louis’ legs find purchase around his hips.

“Jesus Lou,” Harry complains, “could’ve warned me.”

  
“You didn’t need it.”

Louis grins at him, relieved to find Harry’s the kind of guy that will always be there to accommodate his stupid ideas. Harry flashes a goofy smile back and then nuzzles Louis’ neck with his nose.

“You’re a menace,” he remarks fondly.

  
“I’m cute as hell and you know it,” Louis says, peering back at Harry with big blue eyes, just to make his point clear.

Harry kisses him once more and then sends a spark of electricity down Louis’ spine when one of his hands moves to support his back and the other gravitates lower to his arse. Harry pulls him tight against his body, angling him downward so the line of his hard cock is pressed against the seam of Louis' ass. Louis gives him an appreciative smile.

“Ready love?” Louis asks him, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Harry raises an eyebrow than lets out a shaky breath a moment later as Louis hitches his legs tighter around Harry and moves forcibly against him.

“We are not having sex for the first time against a door,” Harry says suddenly.

Louis’ laughs.

“Course not babe.”

  
“Well stop….that…whatever you’re doing," Louis had merely begun rotating his hips in small circles but it was obviously making Harry a little crazy, “because at this rate, I won’t make it to the bed."

Louis drops down from his position around Harry and then pulls him toward Harry’s room. He pauses when he spies the unmade bed and then remembers just why this is so complicated.

  
“Did Ni…did he,” he swallows noisily, “did you guys…here…last night?”

Harry looks at him with eyes that are just a touch mournful.

“Of course not Lou. You really think I’d bring you here….to the same bed? We’ve been fighting anyway. Neither of us have really been in the mood.”

It’s enough for Louis. It’s enough to know that Harry hasn’t been with Nick since before they’d started fighting over him. Nick may have been a threat at one point but now he’s just a ghost, a ghost that they easily discard as Harry pushes him onto the bed and leans over him, holding his weight above Louis with just his hands. Louis reaches up and skims the backs of his knuckles down Harry’s cheek before reaching for the buttons on Harry’s shirt, undoing them quickly to reveal the work of art that lays beneath. Harry is all finely sculpted muscles and soft skin and Louis finds that kissing his way up the middle of Harry’s butterfly tattoo is almost just as rewarding as the silly giggle Harry lets out when Louis lets his tongue dance over one of the swallows.

“Harry, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes, smoothing his hands over Harry’s hips in what he thinks of as a possessive gesture.

Harry’s smile is dazzling as he flashes his teeth and Louis can’t resist rolling them over so he’s straddling the boy, still fully clothed, but with Harry’s hard, naked cock beneath him, sending shivers of anticipation down his back. He teases Harry by sliding himself slowly back across his length. Harry grabs his arms to still him and Louis just chuckles, leaning down to capture Harry’s mouth with his own.

“You’re incredible,” Harry says quietly, “but if you don’t stop teasing, I’m going to have to get revenge.”

Louis pulls back from the kiss in one swift motion, pressing down as he does so and evoking a sharp, loud groan from Harry. When Louis stills himself, Harry flips their positions once more. He parts Louis’ legs and then bends down to undo his jeans, making short work of them when Louis begins to complain that he’s taking too long. Harry drags his mouth the whole way up Louis’ left leg, pausing to suck a love bite into the sensitive skin around his thigh which makes Louis’ breath hitch as his head lolls to the side.

“I told you not to tease,” Harry says, much too smug, before opening his mouth wide and planting it over Louis’ cock.

Louis feels the wetness spread over him even through the material of his briefs and he can’t help the way he tenses as Harry takes the tip into his mouth and sucks gently. Nor can he help the desperate, manic way he shoves Harry away, forcing his briefs down his legs and letting out a small cry of disappointment as Harry moves away from his hardness.

“Not yet,” Harry tells him, with a pointed look.

Louis feels lost without Harry’s mouth around him but Harry virtually makes up for it when he motions for Louis’ to kneel. Louis does so, kind of enjoying Harry’s boldness as he pushes Louis' grey singlet up his chest and leans in close, sucking another love bite into his skin, just slightly right of his left nipple. Then he pulls the singlet over Louis’ head and gently forces him backward, his knees planted on either side of Louis hips as he pushes his pelvis against him, bringing their hard cocks together without much preamble.

As Harry leans over him to grab what he presumes is lube and a condom from his drawers, Louis takes the chance to really look at him. He notes the way Harry’s hair falls in loose tendrils around his face, the quiff he’d displayed earlier completely dishevelled and the way that the emerald colour in Harry’s eyes catches the light, reminding Louis of some kind of lush, forest-like kingdom. He watches Harry’s full, raspberry toned mouth pucker as he breaks the seal on the box of condoms and is already tempted to pull him back in for another kiss. Harry’s body is beautiful in the muted lighting from the lamp, the shadows emphasising every last contour and every striking image printed upon his body. He’s damn near angelic.

“Harry,” He croaks, suddenly overwhelmed.

Harry abandons his task, resuming his position over Louis, his face creased with concern but when he reads the expression in Louis’ shining blue eyes, his whole face smooths over.

“I know Lou,” he says, reaching out to hold Louis’ face with one large hand, smoothing a thumb over his cheek.

  
“I want to be with you. I want to do this…for real. No more hiding,” Louis finds himself saying, his heart beating slow and calm, contrasting with the fever running through him.

Harry kisses him long and hard, then pulls back with a soft, sweet smile reserved just for him.

“I will do this with you. Just…promise me you won’t…give in. Don’t let me go. I’m tired of feeling alone Lou. I feel alone when I’m not with you.”

Harry’s eyes seem to bend around the corners as if pained. Louis is quick to soothe.

“You’re not alone anymore. We’re the dream team Haz,” Louis assures him.

Harry seems to think this is as good a time as any to reach for the lube, smearing some on his fingers before slipping just the tip of his finger into Louis. Louis watches him with a heavy gaze, unable to take his eyes off the incredible sight that is Harry’s face tensed with concentration as he slides the rest of his finger inside. Louis arches his back a little, moving into it, enjoying the way it stretches him.

“More,” he says weakly, keening a little as Harry inserts another finger and begins to scissor his fingers.

Louis presses himself against Harry’s hand, throwing him a pleading look until Harry’s questioning, concerned look eventually drives him to speak.

“Another. Love, I’m perfectly okay. Better than okay actually.”

Harry still looks uncertain as he inserts the third finger, crooking all three fingers, obviously searching for Louis’ prostate. When Louis whines long and low, tossing his head a little, Harry looks encouraged. He leans over Louis to take him in his mouth once more, his fingers still moving inside him, nudging his prostate and pushing Louis closer to the point of no return. Harry’s mouth is just as relentless as his fingers as he sucks Louis down, over and over, his remaining hand wrapping around any part of Louis that he can’t quite reach with his tongue. After a few too many teasing licks around the tip of his now fully engorged penis, Louis forces Harry away with a groan.

“Too good Harry, much too good,” he mutters incoherently.

Harry looks pleasantly surprised which angers Louis. Clearly Nick’s not the type to provide feedback, not the positive kind anyway. Louis can just imagine Nick directing Harry to take more in his mouth, ignoring the fact that Harry obviously has a very active gag reflex. He pushes the awful thought away hurriedly, focusing on the beautiful boy before him.  
Louis begins to stroke Harry to full hardness now, rubbing his thumb across the head multiple times to catch the drips of precome, winking at Harry as he smears it along his length noting that there really is no better lubricant than the natural kind. It takes less than a minute for Harry to swell to full size and Louis doesn’t protest when Harry suggests Louis lower himself down onto him.

He likes to be in control and though he knows Harry suggests this to ease Louis’ pain, the only thought on his mind is that he can make Harry feel the best like this, that he can control the speed and not wait around for Harry who would inevitably take it far too slow and steady. When he lowers himself onto Harry, Harry’s eyes droop closed and when he’s finally all the way inside and their bodies come together, he tenses all over.

“Look at me Harry,” Louis pleads, reveling in the burning, lustful look in Harry's eyes as he obeys, resting a supportive hand on Louis’ hip to guide his movement.

Little does he know, Louis doesn’t really need the guidance. He’s plenty equipped to handle Harry, even as large as he is and as he begins to do so, lowering himself all the way up and all the way back down with a loud smack, he makes sure to squeeze himself tightly around Harry just to show off a little. It draws a slightly off kilter groan from Harry’s mouth and Louis mimics him unintentionally as Harry wraps a tight, warm hand around his length and begins to jerk him off.

Louis increases his pace as he feels his blood rising, the pressure of Harry’s hand providing just the right kind of buzz. Harry’s desperate pants fall somewhere in between his own groans as he leans over and kisses him full on the mouth, sucking on his bottom lip a little as he pulls away.

“Lou, I’m close,” Harry says, making another quietly needy sound in the back of his throat.

  
“Come with me love,” Louis whispers.

Harry’s eyes close in defeat as he bites down on his lip, his hand moving at lightning speed around Louis. The image of Harry losing the will to fight his own orgasm is just about the prettiest thing Louis’ ever seen. He takes delight in watching the automatic, frenzied snapping of Harry’s hips as he falls deeper into the moment and when those hips finally stutter and Louis feels Harry let go, he spins out of control himself, spilling all over Harry’s hand and sighing as his muscles release all of their pent up tension. He is the definition of blissed out as he rolls over Harry and lies next to him, cuddling up into his side.

Harry kisses his hair and pulls Louis’ leg over his body so they’re tangled more closely together.

“You might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Harry murmurs.

It’s a big statement, huge in fact and Harry’s completely high from sex. Louis doesn’t know what to say; doesn’t know whether Harry means it and he really doesn’t know what Harry is for him yet. They still have so much to figure out, so many barriers to them being together and call him crazy but Louis is just not ready to make those kind of proclamations yet. So he simply keeps his eyes closed, smiling into Harry’s chest and lets the exhaustion take him under. They’ll have time to talk and perhaps even proclaim tomorrow. Louis has never felt this sure of anything.

  
….

  
Louis awakens to a frankly disapproving stare emanating from the eyes of a curvy brunette who looks just this side of middle aged as she crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently. She looks so much like an angry parent that Louis finds it amusing…until he realises with a start that she is an angry parent. This is Harry’s mum, staring down at him all foreboding and though he hates to admit it, he shrinks under her stare. He feels intensely vulnerable as he realises he’s still naked and wrapped halfway around her son. He draws his limbs away from Harry and quickly locates his briefs beneath the doona, sliding them on, all as she watches with a critical eye. She doesn’t speak, just beckons for him to follow her with one finger as she leaves the room.

Louis hastily pulls his clothes back on and hurries after her, feeling awkward and unprepared as she pulls two mugs from Harry’s shelf and busies herself making tea.

“Ah…” he starts, having no clue what to say but desperate to break the tension.

“You must be Nick,” Harry’s mum says, turning to eye him with suspicion, “I’m Anne.”

Louis’ panicked expression must tip her off to something because her eyes suddenly brighten and she crosses the room and pulls him into a tight embrace. He feels a little dizzy when she lets him go, wondering what on earth is going on.

“I’m so sorry love!” She says, flattening her hand against her chest before handing him a mug filled with tea.

Louis follows her out to the living room and waits until they are perched on opposite couches to speak, still kind of puzzled at the direction the conversation has gone in.

“I’m Louis…” He says uncertainly, sensing she’s already figured this out.

She nods her head happily, beaming at him.

“Of course you are, I’m so sorry. That silly boy of mine didn’t tell me he’d broken it off with Nick. Obviously I was always rooting for you two,” Anne gushes, reaching across to pat his knee.

Louis feels slightly unsteady.

“He hasn’t exactly…broken it off yet,” he admits, watching her face flicker with disapproval once more, “but what do you mean? Harry talked to you about me?”

  
“I can’t say I blame the boy for falling into bed with you. God knows it’s tough when you feel about someone the way you two feel about each other. But maybe talk to Nick as soon as you can, yeah? And as for mine and Harry’s correspondence, that’s between a mother and her son Louis,” she says this with a wink that softens the words.

He decides he might as well continue being upfront with her. She seems like she appreciates it.

“Harry and I…we haven’t discussed our feelings…as such. It’s not as simple as one plus one equals two,” He mumbles.

She leans across the table once more to grip his shoulder, a bit too tightly if he’s being honest. He meets her dark eyes and sees the concern reflected there; concern for her son, maybe even a little concern for him.

“Louis, I really like you. I love what you do on the radio and I love how happy Harry’s been these past few months but I have to protect him, you know. I have to be the big bad mama wolf and warn you... not threaten you love…don’t look so afraid. No, I have to warn you…Harry’s not like you. He’s confident in himself and free spirited but he’s got a fragile heart. And when he hurts, he really hurts,” She says, shaking his shoulder a little.

He nods but he’s not convinced he’s got the message. Neither, it seems, is she.

“What I’m saying Louis is that….if you break his heart...if you hurt my boy, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And he might never recover enough to trust you with his heart again.”

Louis stares at her over the rim of his mug and sees the worried lines on her face. It’s moving, how very concerned she is with Harry’s happiness. He feels the same way, he wants to tell her. Of course he won’t break Harry’s heart, he’d like to say, but there’s a feeling stirring in his veins that he can’t quite explain. He feels like this thing with Harry is the most precarious pocket of happiness he’s ever possessed and perhaps it won’t be long before it’s slipping through his fingers. He feels uncertain when he thinks of his future with Harry, a concept like forever, somehow too good to be true.

“I won’t hurt him,” he says quietly, sipping his tea to try to soothe the lump in his throat.

Anne smiles but Louis can see that same worry still alive in her eyes and he knows somehow that she sees right through him. The good news is she doesn’t seem to hate him for it. The bad news is he knows he’ll hate himself if this ends, the way he feels it might. That’s when Harry comes downstairs, in just his briefs and throws them both an elated, sleepy smile. Louis wants to kiss him good morning, morning breath be damned but despite her unwavering support, he senses that Harry’s mum might not be all that comfortable watching him try to resist snogging his son’s face off. To his surprise, she shoos him away with a hand gesture, motioning for him to follow Harry into the kitchen.

“Go on then. Get it over with,” she sighs, “I’ll just be watching morning TV and studiously ignoring the sounds of young love.”

Louis does a double take at the word love but then jumps up quickly, already enlivened by the thought of touching Harry again.

“Your mother and I had an interesting conversation,” Louis teases, once he reaches the kitchen, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist.

Harry turns on the spot and greets him with a close mouthed kiss, because okay, maybe not morning breath be damned. It’s sweet all the same and Louis smiles a goofy smile, all sunshine and summery thoughts as he moves closer to Harry and further from his terrible gut feeling.

  
“About?” Harry asks, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

  
“Oh you know, the usual stuff, embarrassing childhood stories, all your dirty little secrets…the whole shebang.”

Harry’s face darkens.

“She wouldn’t!"

He’s pouting now and it’s far too adorable for Louis to handle at this time of morning.

“Wouldn’t she?” He says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Harry rolls his eyes, obviously having caught on but as he moves past Louis to grab the milk, he swipes away a drop of moisture from the corner of Louis’ tired eyes.

“I can’t believe you put milk in your tea. There is something very wrong with you. There is something very wrong with me for liking you,” Louis comments, scrunching up his face.

  
“Like me do you?” Harry says, a dimple lifting in his cheek.

  
“Nah, course not. I’m just using you for sex and the bad jokes,” Louis deadpans.

Harry swats him on the ass and Louis squeals like a girl, making Harry chuckle.

“Let’s go watch morning TV with my mum,” Harry says, lifting his tea with the most delighted smile on his face.

Louis is a little frightened by his enthusiasm for morning TV but nonetheless, he smiles back, tucking an arm around Harry’s waist.

“Only if I get to sit with your mum.”

Harry wears a mock offended look. Louis kisses it away.

  
…..

  
It’s been four hours since Louis left him to go “do what fancy, famous radio stars do on their days off.”

Harry had looked at him nonplussed when he'd said it, waiting for the punchline.

“I’ve got a date with Zayn,” Louis had said eventually, with a cheeky smile.

They stood just inside the door as it hung open, Harry’s mum having left not too long ago. Louis leaned against the doorjamb while Harry leaned over him, resting his forearm above Louis’ head as Louis’ rocked back and forth, his slender arms wrapped around his own waist.

“Is that so?”

Harry cocked an eyebrow. Louis nodded, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips as he grinned.

“In that case,” Harry grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him close, “you’re not going anywhere."

Louis let out a delighted peal of laughter and then tapped him on the nose as he leaned back.

“Possessive little thing, aren’t you?”

“No,” Harry said hotly, “I’m just looking out for Li.”

Louis gave him a disbelieving look but then smiled brilliantly as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Harry’s. As he began to lean back, Harry chased his lips with a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

“Why do you have to leave again?” He whined.

  
“Because A) I actually do have a lunch date with Zayn and B) there are some….things…you might want to sort out before we go any further.”

Louis began to look uncomfortable, squeezing himself a little tighter as he talked.

“Nick’s at his mum’s today,” Harry said, sorrowfully, “but I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Please come back later Lou. If you really want me to keep my hands to myself, hard as it is, I will but just…I like the way you look snuggled up in my bed.”'

Louis reached up and pushed his curls out of his eyes with a gentle smile.

“I’ll come back,” he promised, “but you’re going to cook for me.”

“I would love to.”

Louis drew closer again, his sky blue eyes noting Harry’s reaction as he halted just before their lips met.

“Have a good day babe,” he said, attempting to twist away and out the door.

Thankfully, Harry saw it coming a mile away and managed to snare an arm around Louis’ waist just in time, pulling him back with a growl. He bit down on Louis’ lip a little after a thorough exploration of his mouth and Louis breathed out unsteadily when Harry finally let him go.

“Now _you_ have a good day babe.”

Harry beamed at him, all dimples and deep green eyes filled with light. Louis looked tempted to protest but instead, gently circled his wrist with his hand and lifted it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss over his tattoo, moving slowly out the door, watching Harry all the while. It was such a uniquely intimate gesture, so left of field, that all Harry could do was stare after him and wave dreamily as he flagged down a taxi. It seemed Louis would always have him on the back foot, even when he was feeling the effects of their spark just as much as Harry.

  
....

It’s been three hours since Harry opened up his laptop, a banana in hand and spied the email from Nick. The subject line read “hope you had a good time” and when he opened up the attachment, he choked on the banana he’d been attempting to swallow. There in black and white was a slightly off center photo of an article from The Sun which revealed a blurry picture of Louis’ hand low on his back as he buried his face in Louis’ neck. The photo had obviously been captured before they’d gotten in the car at Louis’ by a fan of Louis’ or some kind of passersby. It wasn’t the photo that chilled him though. It was the headline. “Louis Tomlinson beds male lover? The latter rumoured to be dating co-presenter, Nick Grimshaw.”

Louis’ team hadn’t done their job this time and Harry felt sick to his stomach when he thought of how Louis might feel when he saw it. Louis so wanted to do this in his own way, Harry knew that much and he felt the same, wanting to have the most civilised conversation with Nick that he could. Fear pooled in his stomach as he connected this turn of events with that weird gut feeling he'd had after Louis had left that morning. Something told him Louis’ wasn’t going to adjust to this. He wasn’t going to take it in his stride the way Harry would. Harry would talk to Nick, apologise then leave him alone for good and move on. Louis would worry about his family seeing it, rejecting him and maybe he’d even blame Harry. God, Harry couldn’t bear it if Louis blamed him.

That was where his mindset was just minutes after he saw the article. Now, three hours later, he’s a mess just staring at his phone on the coffee table waiting for the tell-tale buzz. He’s had plenty of texts and missed calls from everybody. Everybody, that is, except the one person he needs to hear from the most. He knows it’s not a good sign, the radio silence, that is but he hopes beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, Louis will be brave enough. Louis will want to be with him enough. He’s just dozed off into a fitful sleep when the doorbell sounds and he drags his feet to the door, expecting Niall laden down with alcohol or Liam with his song writing journal and a hug.

When he pulls open the door and sees Louis, dressed down in a red t-shirt and grey tracksuit pants, his hair ruffled and unkempt, he feels abrupt relief. Louis’ face is pale and withdrawn but he’s here and Harry feels like if he can just hold Louis, they can recapture the magic of last night and this morning. He pulls Louis inside, hugging him tightly as Louis’ arms clasp him weakly at best. Louis follows him to the couch and they sit across from each other, without speaking. His blue eyes are misty and unfocused while Harry is almost the opposite, too keyed up, even after being woken, his knee jumping up and down as he fights the urge to kiss Louis into submission.

“Louis-“

  
“Harry-“

They both speak at the same time. Harry flashes a small smile at Louis who just brushes his fringe off his forehead with an unsteady hand. Harry motions for him to speak.

“I spoke to my mum. I told her,” he breathes out.

  
“Are you okay Lou? Was it okay?” Harry whispers, gathering Louis' face between his palms.

Louis eyes waver for a moment, as if confused but then settle into spheres of pale blue exhaustion. Louis’ whole body spells defeat with the way he curves in on himself, his knees pressed against his chest, his neck tucked against his chin. It almost looks as though he were protecting himself from Harry but it makes no sense to Harry because there is no way he would ever harm Louis and surely Louis knows that.

“It was fine. Better than fine. She cried, I cried…but it was more of an “I’ve been waiting so long for you to be honest with me,” “I never knew,” kind of thing and she said we’d tell the girls together whenever I was ready. It was more than I ever could have hoped for.”

The problem is that Louis isn’t looking at him, that Louis’ doesn’t sound like somebody who was given more than they expected. Louis sounds like someone on death row. When Louis finally does turn to look at him after a few moments silence, it’s with a turned down mouth and indecently sad eyes. Harry has the audacity to pretend like things are okay anyway.

“That’s great,” he says, bouncing his knee more quickly, “that’s what you were worried about right? I know you wanted to tell people in your own words but you don’t have to deny it this time. We can be together, we can be together in public.”

Louis reaches out and stills his knee and there’s pity in his eyes. Harry always thought pity was a kind sentiment,  like a form of compassion but when he sees it in the set of Louis’ tightly drawn mouth and finds it in the way Louis’ eyes keep flickering to his and away, he feels the exact opposite. When you feel so strongly about someone and the best they can give you is pity, cold and displaced pity; it's not enough.

“Have you read,” Louis swallows noisily, “have you read what they’re saying about me? On twitter and everything else. I’m not just a fag, I’m a home wrecker. I’ve had the rumours before but this is the worst one and people believe it. People hate me because they think I love you, a boy.”

Louis doesn’t confirm whether this is true, he just reaches over and passes a hand across Harry’s cheek in a gesture that is gentle but carries with it a sense of foreboding.

“I know it’s hard Lou,” Harry says firmly, “I know how hard it must be to be called those names. But don’t use that word, don’t speak as if we’re doing something wrong. I’m sorry we may have hurt Nick, I am but I’m not sorry for this.”

He grabs Louis’ hand and squeezes it tightly.

“I’m not sorry I’m in love with you,” he murmurs.

Louis’ eyes widen and he squeezes Harry’s hand back. He closes his eyes after a moment and exhales loudly.

“I can’t come out Harry. Not now. Maybe not ever,” He says, eyes still closed.

Harry's heart sinks but he swallows the disappointment.

“I’ll be with you anyway,” He responds urgently, the panic starting to set in.

Louis’ eyes fly open and something takes hold of him. The defeated look in his eyes abruptly leaves as he grabs Harry by the back of the neck and pulls him into a rough, passionate kiss. Harry feels Louis' lips sliding desperately over his, their tongues tangling but just as he remembers how sweet Louis’ mouth tastes, it’s gone. When he sees Louis’ desperation ebb, he knows it wasn’t just any kiss. It was a last kiss. It was a goodbye kiss.

“I love you,” he repeats hopelessly, waiting for Louis eyes to stretch up, for his mouth to break open in an easy smile as he confesses that of course, he loves Harry too.

Instead Louis stands and looks down at him, too still, too cold.

“I can’t be with you Harry. I can’t make you wait for me to find the courage you already have. You deserve better and I…I can’t make the kind of proclamations you’re making. It’s not because you’re not worth it Harry. You’re so damn amazing, I would give everything up for you if I could, if I was ready. But I’m just not. I’m just a coward and you deserve someone brave, someone just as bold as you.”

He speaks quietly and quickly, the catches in his voice scaling up the intensity. Harry stands too now and knows he’s fighting a losing fight but he tries anyway. He tugs at Louis’ bottom lip with his own, desperately awaiting the moment that never comes, the moment that Louis’ arms wind around him and his lips return his kiss. When he pulls away, feeling lifeless, Louis reaches up and holds his cheek.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. But Haz, I want you to know that this meant everything. It meant so much to hear your voice on that call for the first time and to get to know you over the past few months, seeing everything you are and feeling everything I came to feel. It was so much Harry, don’t doubt that.”

“So much,” Harry’s voice trembles, “but not enough to make you stay.”

Louis lets his hand fall to his side.

“Harry-“

  
“I think you should go. You’ve decided now and so have I. If you’re gonna go, don’t come back. Don’t come back with Zayn and don’t come by the bakery. Just….don’t. I love you and it wouldn’t matter to me who hated me for it or how much, because being with you would make me happy. The same can’t be said for you…clearly. So just go,” Harry spits, throwing his sadness away and thrusting anger into its former position.

Louis’ bottom lip trembles a little but he bites down on it hard. Harry refuses to acknowledge this. Louis might be hurting but Louis is hurting because he’s afraid of himself, not because he’s afraid of losing Harry. If he really was afraid of that, he wouldn’t be leaving. Louis looks tempted to say more but Harry’s so done. He’s done pretending. He lets the first few tears spill out the corner of his eyes and it’s enough to scare Louis away, of course. His face scrunches up for a moment before he turns and slowly walks out of the living room and then out the door.

Harry doesn’t chase after him or try to stop him. He’s lost the battle already. No, instead he sinks down into the couch, all the energy he’d expended becoming apparent as his eyes slide closed, tears still leaking out the sides as his heart thumps heavily in his chest. He swears it’s leaving marks on his rib cage. He’s quite tempted to tear the damn thing out, to tear out anything that bears the marks of an olive toned boy with eyes that tore at his soul. As he slips into sleep, he knows that the worst is yet to come. He knows that moving on with his life after knowing and loving someone like Louis will be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Louis artfully arranges the curly mop of hair before him, smiling smugly at its owner as he effectively proves his skills.

“Told you I could do your hair better than you,” he says, laughing as the boy pokes his tongue out.

“So mature,” he comments, rolling his eyes.

“You’re a pain in my ass Tomlinson,” Jake says without any bite.

“You wish.”

Now it’s Jake who rolls his eyes, far too accustomed to Louis’ juvenile sense of humour pertaining to anything related to sex. Jake is a breath of fresh air for Louis; the kind of friend who he’d made without really trying. Six months of coaching a small football team in Italy has taught him many things about himself. The first is that coaching a sporting team isn’t like it is in the movies with big, dramatic emotional speeches and arguments about race that lead to socio-cultural change. Louis feels more like a new parent, tending to his players’ every need, trying to teach them new things and feeling unequivocally frustrated when they choose to ignore him or are unable to learn. Honestly, it was just the other day that he’d actually cleaned up Giovanni’s vomit after the idiot of a man had decided that going into training full steam ahead after a night out, was okay. He hadn't signed up to be their caretaker.

Secondly, he’s learned that while he’d learned some Italian at school and had taken a class as soon as he got here, the basic rules of the language are not enough to get him by. Knowing a few basic conversational sentences is not enough when he wants to tell Constantin that he’s playing about as good as his twin sisters would….if they were drunk….and had absolutely no concept of how to use their feet. It’s not enough when he wants to tell the guy in the flat next to him that playing classical music at 3 am is the kind of antisocial, inhumane behaviour that might just drive Louis to do something drastic….like murder him and hide his body in a freezer. Thirdly, he’s learned that having a British translator by his side for moments such as these is the kind of saving grace he needs when he’s a) living in a country that isn’t home, b) coaching men who sneer at him whenever he screws up what he’s trying to say and c) trying to explain to his boss, the manager of the team, that as much as he appreciates him making allowances for the fact that he speaks little Italian, (based purely on his footie skills) it’s a big ask getting the team to actually listen to him, let alone like him.

“You’re off in your own world again. Thinking about whatshisname?” Jake asks with a raised eyebrow.

Louis cringes. Jake has been a great friend. When he’d stumbled into the translator dispatch agency and spied the tall, lean boy with the big black curls and green eyes, he’d thought “there's no way I'm working with him.” Given his lack of luck, he’d been called over to the desk by Jake and despite the fact that he’d grimaced at him the whole time, feeling winded and uneasy, Jake had stuck with him, asking him questions about his stay and his need for a translator. Louis had just decided he was going to leave, with or without a translator, when Jake reached over and grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey mate, I dunno what’s going on with you or why you look so tortured but I’m going to help you, I promise. I won’t pry, I won’t linger after hours and I’ll even teach you all the dirty words in Italian because you look like the type,” he’d joked with a smile and no dimples, Louis was relieved to note.

As much as Jake reminded him of Harry in the abstract, Louis had decided then and there that having a compassionate, British friend who may even share his sense of humour would be useful. Jack had stuck to his promise and never asked why Louis seemed to wear a look of constant mourning. He never asked why Louis continued to pick up The Sun wherever he could, staring down at the headlines with what looked like a mixture of surprise and wonder tinged with sadness. He certainly never asked why in the first few weeks that they’d worked with each other, Louis’ phone had buzzed incessantly with missed calls and unanswered texts until one day, after a short whispered and frankly desperate sounding conversation in the corner of a bar, he’d thrown the thing away.

Thing is, Louis had softened a little over time. He’d never revealed any of the intricate details but Jake knew that he’d had a bit of a one night stand bordering on a fling. A bit of a fling that hadn’t really felt like a fling that he’d escaped from for various reasons on which he wouldn’t elaborate. Yet he certainly didn’t know that the man who had Louis daydreaming a little too often was a curly haired, green eyed pop star by the name of Harry Styles who was now part of a band that was quickly becoming famous the world over. He didn’t even know Louis had once been semi famous himself.

“Nope, not this time,” Louis replies, “just thinking about us actually.”

Jake turns around in the desk chair that Louis had forced him into in their shared bathroom. They’d moved in together after two months of late nights out drinking and bitching about his feral players. Jake places a hand on his chest in an exaggerated gesture, batting his eyelashes at Louis.

“I’m flattered. I didn’t know there was an ‘us.’” Jakes smirks.

Louis plays along, gripping Jake’s neck as he reaches around and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Oh honey, I knew you were gay.”

“And I knew I was all you needed to get over you-know-who.”

“I should probably tell you his name. It sounds too much like you’re talking about Voldemort. I did not have a fling with Voldemort. Also, I am completely over you-know-who...the non-Voldemort fling,” he complains, shifting Jake’s curls a little bit to the side.

“So tell me his name. And don’t lie Louis, you still mope about like someone died half the time. It’s not at all convincing,” Jake retorts, eyeing Louis in the mirror that faces them with too much knowledge in his expression.

Louis chooses to ignore the latter part of Jake’s speech.

“It’s Harry Styles.”

Jake turns to stare at him, his curls falling to their original position as he looks up at Louis.

“As in Harry from-“

  
“One direction, I know,” Jake finishes, gaping like a fish, “they’re only the most popular boyband in the world right now.”

Louis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I know. I kind of helped them along.”

  
“You…what? You’re responsible for this? How? God, what else have you been holding back? Don’t tell me you were serious when you said you slept with Neil Patrick Harris?!”

The concerning part is that Jake’s not even joking, his dark green eyes wide with fascination as he regards Louis. Louis chuckles in spite of himself. If he knew Jake would be this amusingly impressed by it all, he might have told him earlier.

“No you idiot, that was a joke,” Jake frowns, disappointed, “and no, I wasn’t exactly responsible for this. They’re amazing, they did all the work and obviously I’ve been here for six months so it's not like I've done the hard yards. But I was a radio presenter on radio 1 and I was the first person to ever play one of their songs. Told Simon Cowell to take notice. A couple of months later, I’m here, they’re signed to Syco and I figure he must have listened.”

Jake still looks awed but then seems to think better of it and schools his expression into one of casual interest.

“So Harry Styles. Harry Styles is the boy, I mean…man,” he corrects himself “that you’re in love with.”

  
“I’m not in love with him,” Louis denies vehemently, his eyes flashing.

  
“Could have fooled me.”

Louis gives him a long look.

“Harry was great….potentially the most amazing person I’ve ever met. But there was something not right there. We wanted different things,” he insists now, beginning to pace.

  
“Yeah right Lou. More like, you were too chicken shit to deal with criticism and too bloody self-sacrificing to ask him to wait until you were ready. So you broke his heart and pretended it didn’t break yours too,” Jake concludes, as casual as ever, as he crosses one leg over the other and leans back in his chair.

  
“How do you even know that? How did you put that together?”

  
“Bits of what you told me to begin with, bits of what you told me just now. Plus I know you. I see the furtive glances every time you hook up with someone. Not that you ever take anyone home…but that's because you’re bloody in love with Harry Styles... and you know it. I know you’re scared to be just exactly who you are. But it’s bullshit Lou, you got nothing to be ashamed of,” Jake urges passionately.

Louis smiles at him fondly, his eyes bearing more than a hint of resignation and sadness.

“It’s not that being gay shames me. It never did. I just never wanted it to be my identifier. I didn’t want to be a gay radio presenter…I wanted to be an entertaining radio presenter. I wanted to be known for the smiles I put on people’s face, not the people I chose to sleep with,” Louis explains, looking out the window at the bustling traffic.

  
“Can I say something? You might not take it into account but I hope you will.”

Jake sounds reflective. Louis motions for him to speak.

“I see why you felt like you had to do that but you wanna know what I think? I think you’re brilliant with people. I think you bring out the best in them. Even your players who barely like you shine brighter around you. And I think that would have always been your identifier. You choose what kind of name you make for yourself Louis, not the media. You choose the image you portray and maybe they’ll twist it and spin some bullshit stories but they can’t make you something you’re not. They can’t take away that which makes people fall in love with you, the fact that you entertain,” Jake says, giving him a meaningful look.

  
“You’re a great friend,” Louis responds, playing with his hands, “and I’ll think about it, I will.”

Jake gives him a suspicious look, not knowing whether to believe him but as Louis lies in bed that night, tossing and turning, he finds that it’s impossible to think of anything else. He’d been so scared of being ostracized for one part of his persona, he’d forgotten that the other parts that existed could potentially matter more. Is Jake right? Is his self-exile unnecessary? He can't quite decide.

  
…..

  
Usually Louis stands in line at the local coffee stand tapping his foot as the grumpy old man searches his table for The Sun. He seemed to misplace it without fail every morning Louis came to collect it and when Louis thanked him profusely and tipped him generously to try and get him on side, the man seemed to take it as an insult, grumbling something that sounded vaguely offensive in Italian and shoving Louis’ coffee and paper at him with a glare.

This morning is different though because for the first time in what seems like forever, The Sun is sitting there waiting for him, the grumpy man smiles and his coffee doesn’t taste too much like cat piss. Then again, it probably hadn’t tasted of cat piss previously. It's just that Louis’ taste buds were simply not open to the idea of coffee...as hard as he had tried to introduce it to his life. He had felt like he should start afresh and that meant trying new things and so he’d continued to try it daily but had never quite taken to it. Yet today, the coffee tastes perfectly crisp and he lets it slide down his throat with relish as he straightens out the paper and wonders why his favourite coffee brewer (no sarcasm at all) suddenly seems to find it within him to be polite.

But when Louis feasts his eyes on that day’s headlines, waiting to see a picture of Harry and to torture himself endlessly like he usually does, (a horrible guilty pleasure he’d adopted months ago) he gets a punch to the stomach. There in front of him is the story of a love rekindled, a love reignited, a love that was briefly…interrupted…but has now resumed without any obstruction. There on the paper is a picture of Harry wearing a long coat and his tight jeans with an arm around his waist, an arm that belongs to Nick whose face is turned slightly to kiss Harry’s cheek. The irony strikes Louis that the image is not all that different from the one captured of him and Harry all those months ago. The difference is however, there’s no panic involved. No broken heart for Harry and well, he wishes he could say no pain for him but there’s a sharp stinging sensation in his chest that feels a lot like yearning with a side of jealousy.

It’s not just the image that sets his teeth on edge though. It’s the writing that accompanies it and the meaning it has for Louis’ life, for his past and for all the pieces of himself that he hasn’t quite been able to put back together. The headline reads, “Harry Styles confirms rumoured relationship: “We’re back together and living together too.” Louis scans the article and finds that Harry was asked about his rumoured dalliance with him and whether it played a role in the break-up of his relationship.

“Louis Tomlinson was and will continue to be a great friend of ours despite his absence from radio. Nick and I really couldn’t be happier and really, the only thing that ever stood in the way of that was me. I wish Louis all the best, wherever he is and I’d like to set the record straight and say that there was honestly nothing going on, just like Louis stated before he took leave. He is in fact straight. The idea that we would ever be involved is ludicrous and I’d like that to be widely known.”

Louis’ breath halts as he reads the words, “I wish Louis all the best” and “ludicrous.” The whole thing is perfectly polite, more complimentary and forgiving than Louis has any right to expect. Harry’s being kind, he knows that. He’s denying the rumours Louis was so afraid of and putting the onus on himself for the breakdown of his relationship but something about it doesn’t sit right with Louis. Somehow the completely detached, perfunctory statement hurts worse than it would if Harry had said he hated him or had perhaps blamed him and publicly. Because here in black and white is the evidence that Harry is happy now and better off. Here is the proof that Harry has moved on and accepted everything Louis had once been so sure of. He had once been so sure that rumours about his sexuality were the only thing that could ever hurt him but now he’s not so sure…because the way he feels now, it feels a lot like hurt....it feels a lot like bitterness.

  
….

  
Louis' throwing bundles of clothes in his suitcase, swearing when he misses or hits his shin on his bedpost as he hurries back and forth between his wardrobe and his bed where his suitcase lies. After the fifth round of swearing, Jake storms into his room looking disgruntled.

“Lou, could you keep it d-“He pauses, taking in the half packed suitcase and Louis’ manic expression, “where are you going?”

  
“To London,” he says simply, resuming his frantic packing.

  
“To London?!” Jake says incredulously.

Louis looks up to find Jake’s eyes filled with concern and anxiety.

“I’m fine Jake. I’m just going back for a few days to see my friends. I’ll be back,” he promises.

  
“You say that but-“

  
“I’m not going to see Harry,” Louis interjects with a warning look.

  
“So the fact that you just found out they’re back together has nothing to do with your sudden decision to go home for the first time in six months? You’re not planning on seeing him even once while you’re there?”

Jake sounds sceptical.

“No,” Louis says angrily, “I just miss home, okay?”

  
“Okay,” Jake says, dragging the word out with a disbelieving tone, in typical Jake-like fashion.

Louis finishes his packing and zips his suitcase, refusing to be put off by Jake’s concerns. He’s not seeking out Harry, of course he’s not. He made his choice…but if he should so happen to run into Harry somewhere, well that’s more like fate than anything. At least that’s what he tells himself as he boards his plane, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

  
…..

  
When Louis turns up on his own doorstep, he expects a warm hello, perhaps a hug. Instead Zayn’s eyes widen, his mouth turns down and he abruptly slams the door in Louis’ face. Louis bangs on it insistently for ten minutes, calling out for Zayn until the bright red door creaks open and Liam emerges in tracksuit pants and nothing else, looking hazy with sleep as he shuts the door behind him. He leans against it, looking Louis and up and down with mere curiosity.

“You’re back?” He says eventually.

  
“Just for a few days.”

Liam looks disappointed, his brown eyes turning down at the sides.

“He missed you,” he says quietly.

Louis throat constricts for a moment before he realises Liam’s talking about Zayn, not Harry.

“I missed him too,” he croaks.

  
“How could you do that to him Louis? I understand what happened with Harry was intense but Zayn did nothing wrong. Neither did Harry of course but mate, Zayn was only ever here for you and the best you could do was a 30 second conversation in a loud bar telling him you were in Italy, that you were okay and that you weren’t coming back.”

Louis’ never felt the full weight of Liam’s disapproval until now and he has to say, it doesn’t feel very nice. His mouth is awfully dry and all he wants is to barrel past Liam into his apartment and talk to Zayn. Try to make him laugh until he gives in with a reluctant chuckle like every other time before. He looks at the door contemplating but then feels some pressure around his bicep and looks down to find Liam’s hand gripping his arm.

“Don’t even think about it Lou,” he warns.

Louis finds it encouraging that he’s still calling him that.

“Liam,” he says, still hoarse with emotion, “I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to hurt Harry. I just wanted to escape. Haven’t you ever been that afraid? I wasn’t thinking of how that might feel for Zayn. I’m sorry I abandoned him, I am but –“

  
“You abandoned us too Louis. Me and Niall. Zayn might have been your best friend but we were your friends too and no matter how long we’ve known Harry and how much we would have wanted and still kind of want to strangle you for breaking his heart, we would have been your friend. We would have stood by you,” Liam tells him.

Louis can’t find the words to express how vulnerable he feels and how much guilt he feels for what he’s done. He’s another person on the long list of people that have rejected Liam. He's a terrible person. So instead, he throws his arms around the boy and waits until he softens, returning the hug, albeit less tightly. When they pull back, Liam is still yet to smile but he looks less on his guard.

“Just let me see him Li. I’ll make it up to him I promise,” Louis vows.

Liam’s chewing on his lip with consideration when the door creaks open again and Zayn slips out in a similar state of undress to Liam. Well, it’s nice to think that even if everything else has changed over the course of the last six months, one thing hasn’t.

“I assume you two are still…” Louis trails off, twining his fingers together to symbolise their relationship.

  
“Together,” Zayn fills in for him, his brown eyes hardened around the edges, “very much so.”

Louis attempts a wobbly smile. Zayn does not return it. Liam reaches up and rubs Zayn’s back, seemingly absentmindedly. It both softens and pains Louis’ heart to watch.

“I assume you’re not back for good,” Zayn says bitterly.

  
“No, just a few days. Just to see you,” Louis lies, flicking his eyelashes a little, hoping any cheap trick will work.

  
“I know you’re here because of Nick. And I know you’re sorry for what happened with us. If you give me permission to slam the door in your face a few more times over the next couple of days, I’ll think about forgiving you,” Zayn says with a straight face.

Louis nods eagerly and then sighs with relief as Zayn grins and pulls him into a tight embrace. When Louis motions him over, Liam joins the fray and it feels like…home.

“You know….being sandwiched between two topless babes is exactly the kind of homecoming I was hoping for,” Louis says after a moment, winking at Liam who rolls his eyes with an exasperated huff.

Zayn chuckles into his back.

“Missed my partner in crime,” He says, pulling back with a light smile.

  
“And he missed you too Zaynie.”

Louis reaches up to mess up Zayn’s perfectly styled hair. Zayn growls and Liam and Louis dissolve into simultaneous laughter. It’s a picture perfect moment.

  
….

  
It’s later that night when he’s lying in his own bed that Louis starts to feel cold all over. He can sense Harry here. He can recall Harry standing in his room, poking fun at Donny and the soft kiss he’d planted on his forehead that night. He can recall smothering a giggle into his pillow late at night when he and Harry were just texting stupid jokes, Harry’s humour being on the wrong side of dorky. He can feel Harry here in London, not much more than two blocks away at his apartment.

He feels the most desperate urge to drive over there and see Harry but then he remembers Nick. Nick lives with Harry now and while having a topless, angry Zayn open the door to him had been a little intimidating, seeing a topless Nick open Harry’s door knowing that Harry was probably sprawled naked on the bed inside would be too much. Plus, Louis' so out of the loop, he doesn't even know if Nick moved in with Harry or if Harry moved in with Nick.

Louis lifts his doona off his body several times only to keep dragging it back, unable to get comfortable. He suddenly feels itchy and hot all over and eventually, it gets to be too much. He flicks the dial on his radio beside the bed and flinches as a familiar voice fills the air. It’s Harry and the words he’s singing send chills across Louis’ whole body because not only are they hauntingly sad and bursting with fragile heartbreak but they’re…familiar. They belong to Louis and Harry and their brief moment of perfection. Now they’re a song. Now these words are Harry’s way of expressing how badly Louis broke him.

“Don’t let me go, cause I’m tired of feeling alone,” Harry rasps and Louis lets out a rasp of his own, his hands trembling as he realises he’s crying for the first time in years.

Nothing has ever hurt as much as this. Nobody has ever gotten inside him the way Harry has. Louis’ mind flashes back over the last six months, full of blank stares, nightmarish days and nights spent trying to drink away the memory of Harry’s mouth. Meeting Harry has changed his life in all kinds of ways. He had considered coming out for Harry and he never would have done that for just anybody. Harry seemed to bring forth a desire to prove himself, to live up to his expectations. Louis thinks back over his recent conversation with Jake and lets a few more tears trail down his cheek. He feels sick with anxiety as he reaches the apex of his reflection but it doesn’t come close to the last six months. The anxiety tells him that he can't sit back and let the pain overwhelm him anymore. As he shoots off a quick, concise email to Nick letting him know he’ll be in on Monday, he breathes out deeply, finding that he’s remarkably okay with what’s about to change because he knows that if something doesn’t, he’ll drown in the empty space inside him.


	9. Chapter 9

Nick is barring the entrance to the tea room when Louis gets to work on Monday. He glares at Louis, eyes dark with rage. As much as Louis despises Nick for being the person who gets to kiss Harry good morning and good night, Louis knows this is so much more complicated than that. Nick is not the one in the wrong here, not really.

“Nick,” Louis sighs, shouldering past him, “I’m sorry.”

Nick follows him over to the counter, hot on his tail.

“Sorry for what Louis? For sleeping with my boyfriend or for using him for sex the way you warned him I was?” Nick spits.

  
“I didn’t say that…”

  
“As good as. Harry told me. Harry trusts me. It took a lot for us to get through what we did, to get past you,” Nick says the word ‘you’ with venom, “but we did and I forgave Harry. I forgave him because I knew how he felt about you. I knew he was too naive to tell the difference between somebody who wanted him for a night and somebody who wanted him for more. Maybe I thought it would be casual when I first met him but knowing Harry changed my intentions the way it should have changed yours.”

Louis wants to say that it did. Louis wants to say Nick’s wrong for thinking so little of him but he’s still not certain of anything. He’s still only sure of what he needs to change in order to be happy with himself and for himself. Everything outside of that still feels like a murky mess. He rubs a hand across the stubble on his jaw, just thinking before pulling two mugs out and starting the process of making tea. Nick huffs loudly beside him.

“Tea isn’t going to fix this,” he says with a steely tone, “he wasn’t yours to sleep with.”

Louis steadies himself with two hands on the bench and looks up at Nick who is all fiery green eyes and sharp angles.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I feel just as bad about this as Harry? Has it ever occurred to you that I wasn’t some evil puppet master pulling Harry’s strings and bending his will? Maybe he wasn’t the only naïve one. We both made a mistake that we both regret. And before you go defending his honour, I don’t regret Harry, of course I don’t. I regret what we did. I regret hurting you, my friend. I regret the fact that I hurt him,” Louis says solemnly.

He finishes the tea and slides it across the bench without looking up. Nick sips the tea before leaving the room without another word. Louis feels like horse manure inside. Things can only get better from here right? 

  
….

  
“So you’re not sticking around?” Nick asks with a wary glance as they sit waiting in the studio.

  
“No…I just want to talk to the listeners. I kind of upped and left without an explanation.”

  
“And you don't think you need to apologise to anyone else? Not that I’m encouraging you to speak to Harry nor do I think he’d see you,” Nick says, his tone cutting.

And oh how it does cut Louis, the implication that Harry’s hatred for him is so passionate that he wouldn’t even consider hearing Louis out if Louis approached him. He won’t though. For Nick’s sake and his own. He couldn’t handle it. If Harry happens to hear the broadcast today, well that’s just the way it has to be but Louis isn’t doing this because he holds any vestige of hope for them. No, he’s doing this because it’s time. He’s doing this because he’s spent six months hiding in one corner of the world pretending that the rest of the world and its various biases doesn’t exist in another. He’s always claimed no bullshit and it’s time to live up to that moniker. As he hears the usual jingle for the start of the show, he realises he didn’t even bother to respond to Nick but he sees that Nick is studiously ignoring him anyway and figures he can’t really do any worse than he’s already done in the past.

“Good morning Britain!” Nick says, falsely cheerful, "hopefully the ride to work is a little less traffic heavy than usual but if not we’ve got a great show lined up for you today with plenty of new music from Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran and yep, you guessed it, the only and only One Direction. But first up, we’ve got out our resident advice junkie, Louis Tomlinson, back for a guest appearance today to speak to you lovely listeners about his extended absence. Take it away Lou.”

Nick looks momentarily caught off guard by his own casual use of the nickname. He frowns, clearly displeased but Louis ploughs on, refusing to be distracted when he’s about to make potentially the most important speech of his young lifetime.

“Hi guys,” He starts, not bothering to alter the softer, more serious tone in his voice, “I’d like to start by apologising for my abrupt exit from the show and tell you all that I truly have missed waking up with you and giving you all my opinions. But I’d like to talk about why I wasn’t really fit to do that job anymore which is interconnected with my reason for leaving.”

Louis takes a deep breath and looks up at Nick, whose forehead is creased. He looks like he’s trying a little bit too hard not to display his curiosity.

“I claimed to be honest with you guys and in many ways that was true. I was honest about the way I believed you should live your lives but the truth is guys, I didn’t have the right to advise you on anything when I wasn’t being honest with myself, when I wasn’t living my life the way I should have...the way I wanted to.”

Nick’s mouth falls open a little and Louis makes a startled little gasp as Nick wheels his chair over and grabs Louis by the shoulder. There’s an on air pause as Nick mouths, “are you sure?” and Louis nods with clear blue eyes. Nick still looks concerned but he allows Louis to go on.

“The thing is, I’ve known since I was very young that I was different. However I wanted to be known for being exactly who I was beyond that. I wanted to be laughed at for the right reasons and to be talked about because I had talent, not because I was born with a certain characteristic. The thing is, and this is the real truth, this is the big reveal, I am completely and utterly gay. And if you were wondering why I denied it, why I lied to you all this time; that is the reason, because I wanted the public to love me and understand me. I didn't think it was possible to be out and proud and be the same person.

“If you’re wondering why now...the truth is just as simple. I came to a point in my life where I could have chosen to be brave and I didn’t. I came to a point in my life where I had the choice between letting someone go and  holding onto them, thereby hurting someone I cared about. I chose wrong. These wrongs choices lead me here, to this point, where I could have chosen to keep running and pretend it was a noble sacrifice or I could own up to mistakes and finally admit the truth. This time I chose right. I’m so sorry for the lies and for those people I hurt. I’m so sorry that you were part of that. I’m sorry you got caught in the whirlpool. One of you is someone I underestimated and I shouldn’t have because you’re a better man than I’ll ever be.”

Louis looks up at Nick in that moment, just pleading for any kind of sign that he’s taking this in. He looks kind of tortured, biting his lip as his eyes search Louis’ for some kind of humour that belies the seriousness in his tone. He won’t find any.

“As for the other,” Louis says quietly, “you might just be the biggest regret of my life. You might have just been the water that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.”

Louis pushes away from the desk and stands, swaying a little as he comes to terms with the fact that he's just confessed his sexuality live on the radio.

“Ah,” Nick says with a throaty voice, “well that was…that was interesting. When we come back, we play you T Swift’s new single and hear the results of yesterday’s survey.”

Louis makes to leave the studio but something heavy lands on his back and as he turns, he finds Nick grasping him tight, his head buried in Louis’ neck.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he says with awe.

  
“I can’t believe you’re hugging me. I slept with your boyfriend.”

Louis is kind of terrible at the whole pretending-he-didn’t-majorly-fuck-up thing. Nick stiffens and then retracts his arms.

“You were a mess. Obviously. I hate you forever for hurting Harry and for hurting me but... I’m proud of you. And….and as long as you stay away from him, I promise… I will stop bad mouthing you,” Nick says with a large grin.

  
“You were bad mouthing me?”

Louis’ answering smile is dazzling. Nick has every right to bad mouth him and his smile is enough to put one back on Louis’ face.

“Oh don’t worry too much. I just told everyone that I’ve got a bigger knob. That and I told ‘em Harry doesn’t go for guys who insure their butts.”

Nick’s eyes are twinkling with humour so Louis pretends his stomach doesn’t twist at the mere implication that Harry prefers Nick.

“You know that was a rumour!” He cries.

  
“Maybe…but so was your sexuality.” Nick winks.

Louis is shaking his head with exasperation when the door to the studio flies open, banging against the wall as a tall, curly haired boy flings himself into the room with panicked, watery green eyes and an obscene tear in his obscenely tight jeans. Harry looks gorgeous as always, in a midnight blue Henley and a light green woollen jacket, his hair adorably windblown and as curly as ever. But of course it’s not simply his beauty that steals Louis’ breath. It’s all of him. It’s his presence alone that leaves Louis feeling dazed and frightened because he can’t take the proximity. He can smell Harry’s clean, masculine scent from across the room and it’s just too damn much. Harry's expression is much too like a deer caught in headlights as he regards Louis; his eyebrows drawn tightly together and he bites down on his lip, just quietly staring, looking for some kind of answer on Louis' face.

“Harry,” Nick says, his voice quiet and steely, it holds a warning, “what do you think you’re doing here?”

  
“I can’t…you know I need to…please don’t stop me,” he finishes but the truly breathtaking, mildly confusing thing is that those intense green eyes don’t flicker to Nick...or even away from Louis.

No, instead they fall down his body quickly, so quickly Louis is sure he must have imagined it, before coming to focus on his eyes once more.

Harry is kind of panting, quite obviously having run here from god knows where…somewhere reasonably close he figures, somewhere like Nick’s apartment. Louis feels his heart cramping up at the thought despite the fact that he was already quite clear on the fact that they were living together. He watches Harry now, his own eyes roving greedily over his body, unable to help the way they cling to his muscles; his well-toned arms and his stupidly long legs. His brain can’t deal with so much of Harry after such a long hiatus but his eyes clearly have no such reservations.

Nick sighs loudly and then quietly sits back on his chair, beginning to speak as the ad draws to a close. Louis lets his eyes drift over there now and watches Nick eyeing Harry with a tightly drawn face. Louis doesn’t want to do any more damage than he’s already done but when Nick notices him assessing, he waves a hand away. Surely he couldn’t mean….

  
“Go,” he mouths in between words.

Louis hesitates, glancing at Harry who looks impatient and antsy. He looks back at Nick.

“Say goodbye,” he mouths meaningfully.

That’s when Louis understands. Nick doesn’t want him to fix things, no quite the contrary, he wants him to break them apart permanently. Louis can’t blame him. He’d want the same if he was Harry’s- he stops himself before he can finish the thought because it’s too painful. Louis knows he has no choice as the studio door swings close and he rushes to follow Harry who’s speed walking down the corridor to the tea room. Louis has only just stepped inside when Harry rounds on him, his expression suddenly murderous.

“What the hell Louis?” He shouts, his nostrils flaring.

Even when his eyes are flaming and his fists are bunched, the tendons standing out with the intensity with which he tightens his muscles, Harry looks angelic. Louis gets the strangest urge to just reach out and touch Harry’s curls, just to see if they’re as soft as he remembers. He swallows it quickly as Harry reaches out for him instead, curling a large hand around his wrist and gripping it tightly.

“Harry-“

“I don’t know if that was about me but-“

  
“No, no Harry,” Louis says quickly, shaking his head anxiously, “I wanted to do it. For me. I should have…before…back then…but I couldn’t. Harry I’m so sorry that I-“

  
“Don’t,” Harry says, his voice tight with barely controlled rage as he releases Louis’ wrist and turns away, “don’t even pretend to act like you give a damn.”

Louis recoils as though slapped, leaning back against the door as his breath fills the room, harsh and loud in the quiet that surrounds them. Harry’s head is in his hands where he stands across from Louis.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, taking a step towards him, “are you happy?”

  
“You don’t get to ask me that,” Harry chokes out, his voice thick with barely suppressed emotion.

As Louis watches the way Harry’s body curls, he feels terrible that he’s been such a prat that Harry feels threatened in his presence. He notes the way Harry’s shoulders have begun to shake a little, as though he may be crying and when his eyes fall to Harry’s legs and that awful rip, he notes the small bleeding cut on Harry’s knee which consequently explains the rip. This small fact, the fact that Harry’s pigeon toed, clumsy, big feet obviously couldn’t handle the journey to the studio and tripped him up, fills Louis with the strangest fondness. Here is this man that looks like something out of a Calvin Klein ad, all muscled up and handsome with his perfectly styled, just suitably messy hair and his casual but still refined style of dress. Here is this man that’s basically the front-man of the biggest up and coming band in the world right now and yet despite that, there’s still just this angelic, slightly daggy, clumsy boy before Louis whose heart is too big and who has had the ability to get under Louis’ skin like no other from the very beginning.

Standing there, just taking it all in, Louis realises that it’s never been a question of what he was prepared to do for Harry. It was never about Harry himself. It was about Louis and Louis’ damn fear of anything that meant coming clean or getting attached. He hadn’t been ready to be honest with the world because he’d been afraid of them and their power to change his identity. He’d thought his fear had meant that Harry couldn’t have been anything significant because surely Louis would have been able to trump his fear if he was. People do crazy things for love right? But he hadn’t thought of the truth…the truth that if he wasn’t able to be honest with himself about his own need to live his life without hiding, how could he have been honest with himself about the scariest feeling he’d ever felt in his entire life? How could he have realised that Harry was changing him, from the inside out, the whole time he was fighting against it?

Louis walks slowly across the room and as he gets closer, he hears the tiny, shaky sobs emanating from Harry. He’d like to wrap his arms around him. Instead he lifts Harry’s hands from his eyes and squeezes them. Harry flinches, expecting judgement or criticism but when Louis glimpses the red rimmed corners of those green marble eyes and the tremble in Harry’s bottom lip, he reaches up and cradles Harry’s face. Harry looks tempted to protest but seeing something in Louis’ eyes, he bites his lip, just waiting.

“You’re the water that broke the camel’s back Harold,” Louis murmurs.

Harry’s eyebrows draw together as his Adam’s apple jumps in his throat.

“I don’t under-“He tries to speak, his voice strained and throaty.

Louis places his finger over Harry’s lips. Harry’s eyes flicker down to it, transfixed and then up to Louis’ eyes. He looks uncertain and vulnerable but certainly not furious like before.

“I love you,” Louis says with an exhale.

Harry’s lips open beneath his finger letting out a small puff of air. Louis gets lost in the bottle green of his eyes as Harry stares, his pupils dilated, as though his whole body has gone into a state of shock. Louis knows he’s just digging a bigger hole for himself with Nick but now it’s clear in his mind, he knows that there’s no going back. He’s either going to hate Nick for the rest of his life for owning Harry’s heart or he’s going to hurt Nick worse than he did before in order to secure the heart of the imperfect, bumbling pop star before him. For Louis, there is only one option. He has to try. He launches himself at Harry, gripping Harry’s face in his hands as he smothers the boy’s mouth with his own. He thinks his eyes roll back into his head a little at the shivery sensation he gets from the softness of Harry’s large, passionate mouth. It’s sweet but short-lived as Harry tears his mouth away, his eyes flashing with betrayal.

“Harry!” Louis calls out, terrified as Harry begins marching towards the door.

He wrenches it open and then turns back, the worst kind of expression on his face. He looks torn between terror and anger. Louis can see his bottom lip trembling still but he balls his fists once more, staring Louis down with white hot rage.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, his voice too calm, too cold.

Louis feel his eyes fly open with shock. He scrambles for any last scrap of evidence. His heart stops beating as he finds it. He hopes it’s enough.

“No, no Harry,” his voice shakes with fear, “you don’t understand. You’re the only….you’re the only person I’ve ever….I’ve never gone the whole way with anybody but you. I never wanted to. Until you. It was the heat of the moment but I’ve been in the heat of the moment before and I never went through with it. Never. But you,” Louis’ voice go soft, “you were different. I should have known. These last six months were hell and I know why….because I’m stupidly in love with you....and stupid is exactly the right term to describe how I reacted.”

Harry looks confused and troubled as he runs a hand through his curls and looks out into the corridor with half glazed eyes. When he looks back at Louis, his eyes infiltrate every part of Louis’ soul, as though he's trying to remember every detail. The thought terrifies Louis. This can’t be the end. Not now when he’s completely clear on what the end means....the end means losing the man he loves. The end means being as miserable as he’s been for the last six months...but permanently. Harry retracts his eyes and then pulls himself quickly from the room, letting the door click shut behind him. Louis feels sick as he leans over and puts his hands on his knees. The room might be spinning.

“Fuck” he grunts, kicking the leg of the table beside him a little too hard which ends with him hopping around on one foot, groaning with pain.

Their conversation feels unfinished but Louis doesn’t even know if Harry believes that he loves him let alone whether he can forgive him. Then there’s Nick. Nick who Harry quite willingly pursued a relationship with and just recently moved in with. Harry is obviously committed. How can Louis compete with somebody who didn’t break Harry’s heart and who in fact, probably picked up all the pieces of it and put them back together after Louis’ broke it?

When he finally finds the will to move, he drives back to Zayn’s and finds Zayn, Liam and Niall waiting all with looks of sympathy and concern. Louis tries to wave them away, assuring them he’s okay but when the three of them jump on him, refusing to let him get away without a hug, he lets a few silent tears escape and leans into it. This is what he had always wanted; brothers. It’s just a pity that he can’t enjoy it because somewhere out there his fate is being decided by the one person he loves with his whole heart and he really can’t protest because he owes Harry all the time and space in the world. He should go back to Italy. He should leave Harry and Nick untouched. But he can’t, not when there’s this force inside him that reminds him that his leaving was the worst mistake he ever made. If there’s even the slightest chance that Harry could love him; that Harry might still love him….he has to stay. He has to wait it out. It won’t stop till we surrender Haz, he thinks, praying Harry’s not ready to give up just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! :) Hope you've enjoyed it so far! Any and all feedback is welcome x


	10. Chapter 10

It’s been three days since Louis made the awful mistake of kissing Harry after telling him he loved him. He’s heard nothing. Originally he’d intended to stay just until Tuesday but he hadn’t planned on realising that running wasn’t going to fix him. He hadn’t planned on realising that no matter how far he travelled, his heart would still rest right here with Harry. So now it’s Thursday afternoon, he’s stretched out on one couch, Liam and Zayn are snuggled up together on the other and Niall is lying out like a starfish in the middle of the floor.

“Surely you’ve heard from him Ni?” Louis asks, lifting his head a little to look at him.

Niall looks far too sober for someone usually so carefree.

“Actually I haven’t. We were supposed to record last night, he didn’t turn up,” Niall explains with a frown.

  
“Quit looking so sad on my behalf,” Louis scolds.

Niall shrugs and then jumps up and onto the couch with Louis. He wraps himself around Louis and nuzzles his head into his chest. Louis lets out a soft chuckle in spite of the pit of despair in his stomach.

“You just can’t resist, can you?”

  
“Don’t knock it Lou. He’s clearly the best antidepressant there is. I haven’t heard you laugh even once the past few days,” Zayn points out, turning his head where it rests atop Liam’s.

  
“Plus he’s about as cuddly as a care bear,” Liam adds, straight faced.

Zayn raises his eyebrows and squeezes Liam’s side.

“What am I? A pile of wood?”

Liam doesn’t even pretend to contain his goofy grin.

“Jealous Zayn is almost as good as jealous Louis,” he laughs.

Zayn and Louis both frown grumpily at him.

“Excuse me, I do NOT get jealous,” Louis complains, tugging Niall closer, because well….because well he is a rather wonderful cuddling companion.

Plus he loves the way Niall’s eyes lighten, effectively comforted. Then Niall snorts and he considers shoving him off the couch entirely.

“Yeah and Liam doesn’t use puppy dog eyes to get Zayn to do whatever he wants,” Niall says sarcastically.

  
“If you’re thinking of a certain radio presenter, I wasn’t jealous of him as such, I just-“

  
“Wanted to tear his eyes out for being interested in Harry?” Zayn finishes, his lips crooked up in a subdued smile.

Louis pauses, considers protesting but then nods.

“Precisely,” he says, exposing his teeth in a wide smile.

They all burst into laughter just as the door flies open and Harry walks in. He doesn’t stop to consider the other boys. He looks right at Louis with a cold, dark look in his green eyes.

“Glad to see you’re having such a merry time,” he snaps.

  
“I didn’t-“Louis tries.

  
“That’s the most carefree he’s been since he got back Haz,” Liam says mindfully, “he’s been a mess.”

  
“Gee thanks,” Louis sighs with exasperation.

Harry looks him over now, taking in the baggy red jumper, the old faded jeans and his feathery fringe which is more flat and un-brushed than it is feathery. He must see the slightly pale pallor to his skin tone and the way his blue eyes plead, begging Harry not to leave again.

“We need to talk,” Harry announces abruptly, giving each of the boys a meaningful look.

“We’ll just be upstairs…” Liam says awkwardly.

  
“Pretending not to listen,” Zayn says with a wink.

Liam punches him lightly then drags him off the couch. Niall follows after a moment, pausing to touch Harry’s shoulder on his way out.

“Please,” is all he whispers but Harry seems to get whatever message Niall is sending him, as his eyes soften and he encloses Niall in a quick hug.

Niall still looks uncertain but after Harry raises his eyebrow, he scampers away. Louis is left feeling cold and exposed without Niall’s body heat and as Harry moves to sit next to him, he draws his legs up close to his body, shivering a little both from the cold and Harry’s proximity.

“Are you cold?” Harry asks tentatively.

  
“I’m fine,” He replies, lowering his eyes from the intensity of Harry’s stare.

He hears Harry sigh, seemingly irritated and then there’s the sound of material slinking across the ground as Harry grabs the blanket from the spot where Niall had been laying and lays it over Louis’ legs. Louis accepts it gratefully, tugging it up around his neck in a defensive gesture.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

  
“I see through you quite easily,” Harry says, by way of explanation.

Louis’ knows what he’s referring to and what he’s not but he takes his chances anyway.

“Do you? You didn’t believe me when I told you I was in love with you,” He intimates.

  
“I knew you were telling the truth. I just hoped you weren’t.”

Harry’s hand falters a little as he reaches up as if to plant his hand on Louis’ knee but then lets it fall to his side instead.

“Why?”

Louis couldn’t be more confused.

“Because I didn’t want to confront what that meant for me. I wanted things to be as simple as they were before you came back. I didn’t want to think that someone could love me and leave me,” Harry says brokenly, his face clenched with pain.

Louis’ words get stuck in his throat when Harry reaches out and gently brushes his cheekbone with his thumb.

“Eyelash,” Harry murmurs but the meaning behind the soft touch belies the casualness of the gesture.

Louis chooses to ignore this.

“Things were simpler before I came back? I’m sorry…I know I messed things up for you. And I’m sorry I left, I’m so sorry Harry...but I didn’t know then….I mean, maybe I did but not like this. I didn’t want you to change me I guess but turns out, you already had.”

Louis tries to convey with his eyes the importance of that statement. Harry seems to accept this as he looks down, biting his lip and then looks up once more, uncertainty in his eyes.

“Things were…easier with Nick,” Harry admits, “but there was nothing there. There was nothing there that could come close to what I felt with you.”

The green in Harry’s eyes is translucent as he leans close and runs a soft hand down Louis’ face from the crest of his hair to his jaw and then down his neck, finishing at his collar bone. He still looks pained and his fingers tremble a little but Louis reaches up and grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers, not releasing Harry’s hand even when he begins to struggle.

“I’m not letting you go,” Louis says, the double entendre in his tone hitting Harry hard as his eyes shift across Louis’ face, analysing.

  
“You already did once,” Harry says with a shaky voice.

He frees his hand as Louis’ body goes weak but then reaches up and cradles Louis’ face in his too large hands, splaying his fingers wide and using his thumbs to softly trace Louis' cheekbones. The touch is so tender and so unlike anything Louis’ deserves or in fact, has ever experienced, that he feels a few silent tears brim over and slip across Harry’s fingers. Harry wipes them away, the lines in his face deepening in response. He continues tracing Louis’ cheeks as he speaks.

“How do I know….how could I ever know that you wouldn’t just leave again? Because it wasn’t the world you really ran from, was it? I would have waited for you Louis. I was okay with your fear because I understood it,” Harry says forcefully, his eyes burning.

Louis shakes his head in Harry’s grasp, more tears spilling over.

“Harry,” he gets out, his voice box strained with the effort of not crying, “I thought I could protect you from me. I didn’t want you to be held back by a coward and maybe I wasn’t so far off….you’re the biggest star in this country and probably across the world right now. You didn’t need an in-the-closet boyfriend to keep you from being yourself.”

  
“Maybe not,” Harry concedes, letting his hands fall down Louis’ body to his waist, “but I needed you. And you’re the one who got that ball rolling so don’t even talk like…don’t act as if you’re absence was the start of my dream come true. That’s a cop out.”

  
“Harry-“

  
“I broke up with Nick.”

Louis almost swallows his tongue as he sees the deadly serious look on Harry’s face. Even after everything, Harry looks nervous, flinching as though he expects Louis to scold him.

“Why?” Louis' voice sounds strangely hollow, so contrary to the waterfall of emotion going on inside him.

Harry pulls his lip back and forth through his teeth a few times before Louis leans forward and grabs Harry’s face, steadying him.

“Because it’s not fair to be with someone when you’re hopelessly in love with someone else,” Harry says slowly.

Louis’ lips quirk up at the sides. He wants to kiss the tight set of Harry’s mouth away but he waits. He doesn’t want to kiss Harry without his permission this time. He wants this kiss to be the right kind.

“Are you saying-“ He starts.

  
“I’m saying I’m in love with you and nobody else. I’m saying I never would have even entertained the thought of dating Nick for real if I hadn’t seen you with Elijah and I never would have got back together with him if you hadn’t left. I’m saying that I’m terrified of how much power you have over me, the power to break my heart all over again if you choose….but I’m trusting you. Because I have no choice. Lou, I-“

Louis’ heart is beating so fast and so hard, he doesn’t even let Harry finish his little speech before asking.

“Can I kiss you now?” He bursts out.

Harry’s eyes water as his lips twitch up into a smile and he nods. Louis gasps slightly as he grabs Harry’s face with both hands and smashes his lips down against Harry’s, the kiss needy and too desperate at first as their lips sandwich together awkwardly but as he lets his hands wind into Harry’s curls and Harry deftly pulls him into his lap, the kiss turns soft and sweet. Their tongues meet in a quickly established dance, not yet forgotten and when Louis grinds gently down against Harry, he groans and pulls Louis down more tightly, forcing him to press harder. They’re both smiling into the kiss and eventually Louis pulls away with a startled laugh.

“That was-“

  
“Amazing?” Harry offers with a breathtaking smile.

Louis leans forward and kisses him gently once more.

“Amazing,” he agrees, sliding off Harry’s lap.

  
“Where do you think you’re going?!” Harry exclaims, pulling him back.

  
“Ah, we have company,” Louis laughs.

Harry’s eyes widen and then they both laugh as an exaggerated cough sounds from behind them. They turn to find Zayn giving them a long look, Niall smiling hugely and Liam wearing a soft, affectionate smile.

“You certainly do,” Zayn warns.

Instead of letting Louis wriggle away, Harry holds him closer, gripping the the small of his back as he hoists him up higher onto his waist and then stands. Louis wraps his arms and legs around Harry and giggles as Harry plants a quick, wet kiss on his neck.

“You’re going to be the most disgusting couple ever, aren’t you?” Zayn moans.

Liam reaches across and massages Zayn’s shoulder with one hand.

“We’re glad you sorted things,” Liam says, much more gallantly.

Niall can’t wipe the smile off his face and doesn’t look perturbed by their public display of affection at all. This conversation has highlighted to Louis that he and Harry aren’t yet official. Harry seems to have realised too as he turns his head at a slightly awkward angle to meet Louis’ hopeful gaze.

“Haz, how about it?”

  
“How about what?” Harry says with a wink.

Louis pouts but then nips at Harry’s mouth, unable to help himself. He hears Zayn groan near him but chooses to ignore him.

“How about you stop being such a prat and be my boyfriend already?” Louis suggests, trying to look more irritated and less like the nervous wreck that he is inside.

He knows Harry meant it though when he said he can see right through him because he smiles slowly, softly, his beautiful green eyes staring directly into Louis’ now as he assures him there's nothing to be uncertain of.

“Okay” Harry murmurs, pausing just before Louis’ lips “we are the dream team, after all.”

Their kiss is short but so indescribably sweet.

“We’re going to bed now. Zayn, I’m going to monopolise your best friend for the rest of the night. You might want to leave…or not. It’s your choice,” Harry calls out as he begins carrying Louis up the stairs, Louis clinging to him like a teddy bear all the while.

“Oh my god Li, get me out of here,” Zayn complains.

Liam chuckles and takes his hand as they quickly exit. Niall follows behind them of course, calling out a loud, “have fun,” just as they reach Louis’ bedroom and Harry lays him gently down on the bed.

“Oh we will,” Harry whispers in Louis’ ear, all rough voiced and seductive.

Louis’ heart thrums in his chest and he instantly feels more alive than he’s felt in the last six months, perhaps barring the time Jake took him sky diving. Harry is all his now and Louis can’t wipe the smile off his face as Harry begins to kiss his way down his neck, nosing at the edge of his jumper. This is just the beginning of what Louis’ feels might be the most important relationship of his life.

  
…..

  
Louis is lying in the circle of Harry's arms, pressing playful butterfly kisses upon his chest whenever the urge arises when a wondrous thought flits through his mind.

"How long has it been now?" He asks, interrupting whatever Harry had been mumbling into his fringe.

Harry rolls his eyes.

"You weren't listening to a word I was saying, were you? God, you're terrible," He grumbles but his eyes are still soft, his arm still wrapped securely around Louis' naked body.

  
"Terribly fit?" Louis offers with a smirk.

Harry reaches down and gives Louis cock a soft squeeze. Louis groans a little as he bucks up into Harry's touch.

"That's what I thought," Harry says with a smug, dimpled smile, "now what was it you wanted to know?"

Louis makes a soft sound of protest but tilts his head to look at Harry anyway.

"How long has it been since we got together?"

"It's our six month anniversary in two days," Harry growls.

Louis' eyes widen considerably as he attempts to place a placating kiss on Harry's angry mouth. Harry pouts, refusing entry but when Louis' reaches down and uses Harry's trick against him, squeezing his length and rubbing his thumb over the head of Harry's cock, he whimpers and lets Louis capture his mouth in a possessive kiss.

"That's what I thought," Louis mimics, pulling away.

The effect is slightly ruined by the fact that he's kind of breathless just from hearing Harry's response. Harry's pouting at him once more and Louis no longer has to deny the fact that it's adorable. However, it is distracting him.

"Stop pouting love," Louis says, tapping Harry's lips with his finger, "I'm sorry for forgetting. But if you just let me get back to my original point, I might be able to make it up to you...or not....we'll see I guess..."

Louis' rambling nervously and Harry's looking at him curiously now.

"What on earth are you on about?"

  
"Move in with me," Louis blurts out, because well, blunt always seems best when he's feeling this nervous.

However, Harry's eyes light up like a Christmas tree and he pulls Louis on top of him, ravaging his mouth with his own, showing Louis there was no need for concern. Their bodies sliding hungrily against each other are just starting to give Louis some interesting sensations when Harry pulls back. Louis whines low in his throat.

"We will resume," Harry promises, a twinkle in his eye, "but I thought I better tell you that, that was me saying yes... in case you didn't get that...before we get too distracted."

Louis' grin is stretching his face so wide, he's not sure there's any part of his face that remains unwrinkled with happiness.

"You know, it might be a good idea to talk Zayn and Liam about the whole moving thing. Maybe we could do like a...swap? " Harry suggests with a cautious smile.

  
"That's a brilliant idea Haz," Louis compliments.

  
"I have another brilliant idea actually."

Harry smirks and Louis always knows something interesting is about to happen when Harry's got his seductive smirk on. That's when Harry wraps his legs around Louis' waist and squeezes tightly, forcing their bodies....and their dicks together in what Louis would like to call the best well-timed, sex manoeuvre in history. Louis moves up and down a little, rubbing against Harry and drawing a startled gasp from him as he squeezes Louis tighter and forces himself up into the sensation.

"I think I'm pretty brilliant too," Louis comments arrogantly.

  
"Fucking hell," Harry mutters as Louis increases the pace, "I'm about to spill brilliance all over you."

Louis lets out a long peal of laughter which is only cut off when Harry flips their positions and rocks down tightly against him, raising every hair on his body. Their movements are so well timed that their cocks brush up against each other with every slide of their hips and after what feels like barely a few minutes, Harry begins to groan against his ear and Louis' toes begin to curl as their respective orgasms hit them simultaneously and they spill all over each other.

"Brilliant," Harry surmises with a sigh as he rolls over onto his back, all covered in spunk.

  
"Slight overuse of the word but I'll agree with you there babe."

  
"Babe? Don't you mean...roomie?" Harry says dramatically.

Louis rolls his eyes but he can't wipe the fondness from his face or the happiness from the set of his lips as Harry pulls him close and he sinks into the embrace.

  
…..

  
Harry’s just folding his and Louis’ recently washed clothes when he hears it filtering down the hallway from the bathroom; a tinkling, soft sound that reminds him of lullabies and sweet piano melodies. His mouth is agape and the pair of jeans in his arms falls to the bed as he listens and hears the words immersed in the silky noise.

“Oh, oh, be my baby. I’ll look after you.”

His feet carry him to the bathroom without intention. When he opens the door, Louis stands before him in the shower in all his naked glory, shampooing his hair and making those beautiful sounds. When he spies Harry, he cuts off, squeaking at the interruption.

“I thought you were doing interviews all day,” He says, outraged.

Harry doesn’t respond, just sheds his clothes quickly and steps into the shower, pulling Louis into his body as the water cascades down around them.

“Please continue,” Harry whispers, so awed by the blue eyed songstress before him that he never knew.

Louis shakes his head furiously.

“You’re the singer,” he mumbles, pushing his wet fringe back across his forehead, “I was just mucking around.”

  
“Why haven’t I ever heard you muck around before? Louis, you’re amazing,” Harry says incredulously, gripping Louis’ arms.

  
“Because I’m terrible. Honestly Harry, you’re being ridiculous.”

His tone is far too casual and complacent for Harry’s liking.

“God dammit Lou, will you just accept that maybe I know better than you for once? I am the singer after all as you pointed out. I’m not saying you have to do anything with it…I just…I’d like to hear you,” Harry finishes softly, rubbing his hand across Louis’ hip.

  
“Maybe,” Louis says with a tentative smile, “someday.”

Harry growls.

“When?”

  
“I love you,” Louis says without answering, rubbing his nose up against Harry’s, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

Harry can’t help but pull on Louis’ lips with his own, parting his mouth as Louis accepts his kiss.

“You’re incorrigible,” he whispers, stroking a thumb down Louis’ cheek.

  
“But you love me.”

Louis’ blue eyes laugh into his own.

“Unfortunately.”

Louis pinches his side and he retaliates by picking Louis up and throwing him over his shoulder, exiting the shower after quickly turning the water off. Louis just giggles, far too adorably and attempts to swat his behind.

“You’ll pay Styles,” he bellows.

Harry inserts the tip of his finger into Louis ass and laughs delightedly as he wriggles on his shoulder.

“Not. Fair.” He gasps.

Harry curls his finger, lightly grazing Louis’ prostate and Louis lets out a strangled, choked noise and kicks his feet. Harry lets him down reluctantly but then staggers back against the bathroom wall as Louis’ mouth attacks his own.

“I should antagonise you more often,” Harry says between feverish kisses.

Louis growls and then sucks a love bite into the side of his neck. Harry is far too turned on to protest, his eyelashes fluttering happily as Louis slides to the floor and envelops his cock with his mouth. Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of this; of the way that Louis’ lips stretch obscenely over him, his pretty eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he gazes at the current object of his affection nor will he ever tire of days like this with Louis; days where the whole world could cease to exist and he couldn’t care less because he’s too wrapped up in loving Louis Tomlinson. He can’t believe that this beautiful man is his but he’s never been this happy. He doubts he ever could have been if he hadn’t have met someone like Louis, someone who is the devil incarnate and Mother Theresa all in one. Louis was the first kiss that ever mattered for Harry and somewhere deep inside, below a bubble of fear, Harry finds himself wishing that Louis will be his last first kiss too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it....except I decided to do an epilogue! So that's why the end is a bit..eh. So stay tuned, should be up before the end of the week. Hope you've enjoyed what I've done, let me know :) x


	11. Chapter 11

It’s been a long, long couple of months on tour with the boys. Harry feels like he hasn’t been home in a century and despite the fact that the fans continue to amaze him and that he lives for the high of performing, he misses a different kind of high. He misses the kind of high he gets when Louis’ already tucked in bed waiting for him when he gets home from a long day of interviews. Harry’s always so tired, yet never too tired to wrap his arms around his boyfriend and kiss the hollow in between his shoulder and his neck until Louis shoves him away, giggling with sleepy, crinkled up eyes and a twitching mouth that still does funny things to Harry’s insides.

Three years of being Louis Tomlinson’s boyfriend has taught him a lot about being someone’s other half. It’s taught him that they won’t always get it right. There’s been many a time when Louis has broken down over the fact that he doesn’t see Harry enough or ironically enough, times when Harry has been upset because Louis won’t take a few days off from hosting his radio show to come visit him on tour. It’s taught him that he can’t resist Louis when he climbs into his lap and starts pleading with him, that vulnerable edge to his voice as he whines “Haz” and kisses his way around the edge of Harry’s shirt. Quite similarly, Louis can never stay mad at him when the smell of dinner wafts out of the kitchen into the bedroom and Louis stumbles out to find him making fajitas or some other dish in the nude and singing one of his new songs that he’s written for him.

It’s a constant battle with them; their relationship being so passionate and intense that it’s sometimes difficult to toe the line between burning love and full blown madness. Louis gets a certain pissed off look on his face whenever journalists or other celebrities try and flirt with Harry at red carpet events, male or otherwise but as always, there is balance and Harry can’t stop himself laying a proprietary hand over the small of Louis’ back whenever he catches another lovestruck fan checking him out at the supermarket.

Harry remembers now the week after they’d got together when Harry had first confessed the beginnings of his feelings for Louis.

……

“You were the reason I realised I was gay,” Harry says quite casually as they lay snuggled up in bed one night.

Louis’ head whips around on Harry’s shoulder and his blue eyes widen with disbelief. They’re still slightly glazed over from earlier events and Harry’s slightly tempted to resume as he feels the lovely sensation of Louis’ naked body pressed against his side. Yet Louis’ intense look stops him from capturing the boy’s mouth in his own.

“What did you just…Harry,” Louis shakes his head, attempting to clear it, “what are you saying?”

  
“I was louisexual.”

Harry smiles at him, kind of sheepishly. It’s a tad embarrassing to admit.

“That’s not funny,” Louis remarks with a frown.

Harry reaches across and grabs Louis’ face with his hand, stroking the skin just behind his ear.

“I know love. It’s rather embarrassing actually. Niall and Liam used to tease me all the time.”

  
“Niall and Liam…” Louis sounds kind of breathless, “are you actually being serious?”

Harry shakes his head with exasperation.

“When I called…that first time…on the radio. I said I had a crush…on a boy who was out of my league...I meant you. I mean for one thing you were famous and I was ordinary and for another, I still assumed you were straight,” Harry rambles, watching Louis intently.

Louis’ face is awfully frown-like and Harry hopes he hasn’t scared him off already.

“Lou?” he whispers fearfully when Louis doesn’t respond.

  
“Harry,” Louis’ whisper is a caress as his eyes regard him with softness, “you had a thing for me? Even back then?”

  
“I told you….you were the reason. I heard you on the radio and I loved everything about your segment. You made me laugh…and when I finally stumbled across you online, your twitter and the pictures of you….I liked what I saw too. I was so taken with you and I never stopped to think why that was but Liam was already out and one day, he just asked me about it straight out…pun intended,” Harry says with a wink, “and I told him no. I told him I was straight.”

  
“But?” Louis prompts and his face is alight with wonder.

  
“But you. Like I told you many months ago…I just realised…I wanted to kiss you,” Harry leans forward and pecks Louis’ lips, “and touch you,” he lets his hand skim down Louis’ chest to his waist, “and that’s when I knew that what I wanted made me different.”

  
“I love you,” Louis’ voice is rough and deep and Harry glows knowing he has the power to affect Louis like this.

  
“I love you too,” he echoes, just gently brushing their lips together.

Louis winds a hand into his curls and slips his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Now that he’s finished his confession, Harry has no qualms about reaching around Louis and squeezing his ass playfully. Louis moans into his mouth. Maybe not so playfully then, he thinks, repeating the motion. This is his heaven, right here with Louis and he doesn’t know how long this uncomplicated bliss will last but he sure as hell isn’t going to waste any time questioning it now that Louis is here in his arms.

  
…..

  
Now the memory haunts Harry as he leans forward and knocks his head lightly against the mirror in front of him. One more show in Paris and then he’ll be allowed to go home for a little while. Maybe this time he can convince Louis to come with him when he has to leave again because this is hell. This is more than he’s willing to put up with because as much as this is his dream, Louis is everything that matters. Louis had sounded so cheery and not even close to Harry’s state of misery on the phone last night and though he doesn’t doubt Louis loves him, there was a missing note of sadness that is usually in his voice after a few months of Harry touring. It frightens Harry as he sits here recalling the conversation.  
…...

“Hey babe,” Louis greets him and Harry can hear the smile in his voice.

  
“Hey Lou,” Harry returns, “How’s your day been?”

  
“Not too bad pop star, just interviewed Ed this morning. He’s always good fun when he’s on. Zayn’s coming round soon to have dinner…take out of course. It’s been a really great day actually Haz. I can’t complain,” Louis says.

Harry can hear some form of muted excitement in his voice and he hates the fact that it bothers him. Of course he wants Louis to be happy but it’s just difficult to hear when he’s struggling so badly.

“I miss you,” Harry croaks.

  
“Miss you too babe.”

Yet Louis sounds flippant and offhanded and Harry feels a little sick. What if Louis’ love for him is beginning to wane? What if Louis has finally realised he can do better?

“I don’t think Ziam’s coping with the separation to be honest with you Haz. I’m so glad we handle it so well,” Louis says brightly into the silence that’s been extending between them.

Harry can’t believe he’s hearing this. It was just last week when Louis had called him in the middle of the night, sounding very much like he had been crying (not that he’d admit it) and had asked Harry in the tiniest, most vulnerable voice if he would talk to him until he fell asleep. Harry complied quickly of course and though pained by Louis’ pain, he was comforted by the notion that Louis struggled as much as he did. Now it feels like the world is tilting on his axis and he doesn’t know how to right things nor adjust to the unsteady ground he’s walking on.

“You know they hate it when you call them that,” Harry says without intonation.

  
“They’re such babies. You don’t see us complaining about being dubbed Larry Stylinson. To be fair, our couple name is much cooler but I guess that’s because….”

Louis continues to chatter in his ear but Harry tunes out as it becomes clear to him that Louis’ doing just fine without him. Whatever the other night was doesn’t matter because Louis is adjusting….Louis is okay…and happy…and all Harry knows is that the next step is for Louis to stop needing him at all and to look elsewhere. God knows he has almost as many admirers as Harry and rightly so. Harry feels broken inside at the thought of anybody else touching Louis the way he does.

“Babe?” Louis says in his ear.

Harry shakes his head to clear his thoughts and tries to think of a way out of the conversation.

“I’ve gotta go….vocal warm ups,” he lies.

  
“You don’t usually start those for a few hours yet? Are you nervous love? Don’t be. You’ll be incredible, you always are.”

Louis sounds fond but it’s just not enough to extinguish Harry’s fears and he hangs up the phone with an urgent, “I have to go,” letting one single tear slip out the corner of his eye as he stares at his phone with shock.

Suffice to say, his performance that night was not at all 'incredible.'

  
….

  
When Harry gets out on stage, he’s still in a state of numbness from his earlier reflections of the night before and he barely makes it through the first few songs without crying. His voice sounds rougher than usual and Liam and Niall are both throwing him concerned looks and whispering to each other whenever they’re not singing, gesturing in ways he doesn’t even pretend to understand.

It’s just as they’re about to sing little things when Harry brings the microphone up to his mouth, about to introduce it that Niall speaks instead.

“Change of plans H,” he quips.

He has a massive grin on his face and Liam’s smiling quite hugely too. Harry hears the screams in the audience rise in pitch and mania and his face creases in confusion until he follows the eyes of the young girls in front of him to the small, tanned figure being escorted on stage by two security guards. Harry’s eyes bulge.

“Louis,” Harry squeaks into the microphone as his boyfriend wiggles his eyebrows with an evil smirk.

Louis looks flawless in tight black jeans, white TOMS and a blue button down shirt that contrasts with the dark of his skin. Harry has never seen his blue eyes this bright with humour and he feels a smile break across his own face as he fathoms the fact that Louis does miss him. Louis misses him enough to fly here and meet him even though he’s due home tomorrow anyway. Harry turns to look at Niall and Liam who are wearing strange anticipatory looks that confuse Harry but he doesn’t spend too much time deliberating. He grins at them both, plants his microphone on the ground and then opens his arms. Louis breaks free of the security guards and in a well-practised move, completes a running jump that ends with him wrapped around Harry, his tiny body fitting perfectly around Harry’s waist as always.

“Surprise,” he whispers with a devilish smile.

Harry shakes his head, his cheeks dimpling easily.

“The phone call?”

He tilts his head.

“Had to throw you off. Couldn’t have you knowing how god damn much I’ve missed you, now could I?”

Harry kisses the smirk right off his lips and then releases him onto the stage.

“Why are you on stage?” Harry says, his brow furrowing suddenly as he realises the strange nature of the reunion.

  
“Dramatic flair,” Louis replies without hesitation, “don’t you know me but at all?”

Harry rolls his eyes, still glowing.

“Also, I have another surprise.”

Louis skips away from him to the band, leaving Harry standing there with a comical expression of disbelief on his face. Louis seats himself at the piano that Harry failed to notice earlier when he was in his state of misery. Louis winks at him and then leans toward the microphone.

“Hello,” he says loudly...of course, “in case you were confused, I’m Louis Tomlinson, the boyfriend of the one and only Harry Styles. You see, Liam and Niall here have conspired with me here to set this up and I couldn’t be prouder of them for finally having learnt my mischievous ways. Anyway, quite some time ago, I promised you you’d hear this again Haz and right here, right now, you’re about to get your wish. In front of thousands of people. So surprise number two…enjoy.”

Harry is glancing between his friends and Louis with confusion. He has no idea what Louis’ talking about….until Louis’ hands begin to gently strike the keys and the melody becomes familiar. It’s look after you by the Fray and as Louis’ beautiful voice rings out over the arena, he finds himself staring into Louis’ eyes that remain locked on his, never wavering, sharing his love for Harry in front of all these people, his eyes flickering closed in the deepest parts of the song. Harry has never loved him more.

The song draws to a close and Harry’s feet carry him across the stage. He lifts Louis slightly off his feet as he kisses him while Louis' eyelashes flutter against him, their faces pressing close. When Harry hears the sound of someone making rather familiar vomit sounds behind him, he pulls away and spins around with shock to find Zayn staring back at him with a sardonic smirk on his face and an unusual light in his dark eyes as he leans into Liam's side. Yet…that’s not the extent of it. Now the group on the other side of the stage consists not just of his friends…but also his mum, his sister, his stepdad and Louis’ whole family too.

“Lou, what is going on?” Harry asks without turning to face Louis.

His family are all grinning at him. In fact, the whole group of people look almost scary, huge smiles plastered on all their faces, their expressions lit up with expectation.

Harry hears a collective gasp from the crowd and feels a tugging sensation on his wrist. When he whips around again, Louis is bent on one knee, displaying a black box with a silver band inside, his blue eyes flickering with nerves and melting Harry where he stands.

“Lou,” Harry breathes, unable to take his eyes off the ring before him.

Louis' eyes flicker to the group of people behind Harry who must gesture something because Louis nods, placing the ring beside him and picking up Harry’s microphone that rests beside his feet. Harry can barely keep his heart in check as the moment unfolds before him.

“Harry Edward Styles,” Louis takes a deep breath, “You told me once that when we first met, you were ordinary. But that’s crazy. Because I’d never met somebody so special until you. I’d never wanted to know somebody as intensely as I wanted to know you. From the first, it was the craziest, best and most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me.”

Louis releases one of his hands from the microphone and grabs Harry’s hand. Harry’s eyes burn as he feels those tiny fingers shake and it’s not in him not to reassure Louis. He squeezes his hand. Louis smiles gratefully but still looks a little off balance.

“I don’t put much stock in instinctual feelings and otherworldly sensations as you well know but it occurs to me that it wouldn’t matter what world we lived in, whether we met in a bookshop, or we hated each other to begin with or we met on the x factor as kids and grew up alongside each other, I know we’d end up right here....in love with each other. Because I don’t believe in much…but I believe there is no me without you. Harry I don’t ever want to be without you. When I’m not with you, I’m weaker. With the extremely over the top consent from the entirety of the Styles family and our little crew, I ask you right here, right now, in front of all these people….will you marry me?”

Louis’ voice breaks over the word 'me' and Harry feels tears brimming over. He reaches up and catches them with an embarrassed laugh. He turns to find his mum and Jay with an arm around each other’s waists, tears gracing their cheeks and the rest of the people he loves, all looking remarkably moved and hopeful. He plucks the microphone from Louis’ fingers and then closes his eyes for a moment, composing himself.

“Louis William Tomlinson, I just want it to be you and I forever. Marry ME,” He demands.

Louis’ face had been frozen with tension but now it slackens and his smile is brilliant. He grabs the box from the floor beside him and plucks the ring from the cushion inside. Harry giggles girlishly as Louis slides it onto his finger and then he’s in Louis’ arms, their lips colliding as the stands scream insanely loud around them and catcalls echo around the stage from the band and their family and friends.

“I love you so damn much. I can’t believe you did this,” Harry whispers in Louis’ ear as he finally pulls away, nipping at his mouth just once more because he can’t resist.

Louis wraps his hands around his neck and looks up at him with watery eyes, the sides of his eyes crinkling as always.

“You’re always in my heart, you dork,” he says with fond exasperation, “I shouldn’t have even been able to make you doubt that. I’m yours sincerely, forever.”

  
“Forever,” Harry repeats, leaning his forehead against Louis’.

And neither of them minds the following morning when the headline reads, “Larry Stylinson: Fans Say “Love Story of the Century” as Louis Proposes at Concert.” In fact, Louis may or may not fold the paper up and hide it in the back of the wardrobe as part of the present he will give to Harry on their first wedding anniversary and Harry may or may not pretend he doesn’t notice, smiling adoringly at Louis’ attempt to be stealthy as he assumes Harry has gone back to sleep.

This is the start of their life together and nothing has ever felt this right for either of them. It as if…in some strange sense…the plot was written for them and they had no choice but to move in the ways preordained for them by some struggling writer with a penchant for happy endings. Yet even if this is so, neither can contest that their story comes from something genuine because nothing is as genuine as the undeniable tie between them that holds them together and will continue to do so, even in amongst all of the chaos, doubt and scepticism that surrounds them. This is their silent promise to each other and their vow to the rest of the world; that what they have with each other will never again be forsaken in light of what other people say.

Louis Tomlinson is a no bullshit kind of person and yet he didn't understand the concept "bullshit" until he felt something completely genuine.

"How's this," he tells an interviewer who's persisently questioning him about his previous denials of a romantic connection to Harry, "the idea that came from my own mouth, the idea that I could ever not love Harry Styles, is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Trust me, I would know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it :) Hope you liked it!! Please let me know x


End file.
